Stone Hard as Bulletproof Glass
by inkstainedpinky
Summary: AU. Beca Mitchell had everything at her fingertips: fame and fortune and the career of her dreams. So when a long-standing deal from the past rears its ugly head, she is forced from her life of glitz and glamour in LA back to the plains of Georgia to fulfill her end of a bargain.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters represented in this fiction. They are the property of the creative minds behind the book and film adaptation.

**Rating:** T for now, M for later chapters

**Pairing:** Beca/Chloe

**Summary:** AU. Beca Mitchell had everything at her fingertips, fame and fortune and the career of her dreams. So when a long-standing deal from the past rears its ugly head, she is forced from her life of glitz and glamour in LA back to the plains of Georgia to fulfill her end of a bargain.

_Okay, not gonna lie, after seeing _Pitch Perfect_, I admit I'm digging the Beca/Chloe dynamic, even with my long-standing platonic love for Skylar Astin. I normally write over in the Glee fandom, but _PP_ and its characters have grabbed me by the neck and refused to let go until I pound this out._

_And because I love working with AU's…this is totally an AU. I figured, what if Beca's deal with her father went the other way around: he gave her four years of doing her DJ thing, then she had to go back to finish her degree. I guess, in doing that, I figured we needed to delve into Beca's back story to give her a reason to actually go back to Barden. Also, I figured four years slugging it through LA would also change a person. So if things seem different, it's because I've warped the universe a bit. This is what came of it._

_Enjoy!_

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**STONE HARD AS BULLETPROOF GLASS**

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CHAPTER 1

_Questions, you've asked me hundreds, now can you grant me some rest  
Because I'm tired of it, I'm living out my dream, and I'm tired from it  
If music needed saving, I'd die for it  
Music's where my heart is, I'm alive for it  
I promise _

Beca Mitchell had decided at a young age that her singular passion in life was music. It was her escape, her safe haven, her sanctum away from all the slings and arrows flung her way from the general idiosyncrasies of life that centered around her dysfunctional family life. Before she found music, she felt aimless, floundering for a purpose and searching for an identity. But once she delved into the intricacies music could offer, it was though a whole world had been open for her to explore.

She had worked to get herself where she was, melding time, effort, talent, and just a little bit of luck into a Grammy-winning, multi-platinum career. She had bargained for her dream and her desire to chase it, and while her success did have a deferred price looming in the future, Beca wasn't concerned with what could happen. Right now, she was just focused on living her dream.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Beca reclined back in the cushy chairs lining the VIP lounge of LA's hottest nightclub. To her right was an internationally-recognized recording artist she had recently collaborated with on a track scheduled to appear on his next record, to her left – conveniently snuggled under her arm – was an internationally-recognized supermodel who made her living flaunting a killer body clad in lingerie that appeared in most major publications and mediums. At the moment, Beca Mitchell had absolutely no qualms whatsoever with her life.

She glanced down at her dwindling drink, probably a mouthful left. She tended to limit her alcohol when she was spinning, not wanting anything to hinder her performance. Downstairs, on the main level of the club, the bass thumped through the speakers, playing some generic club playlist, prepping the masses for her set. As she peered over the railing to the dance floor below, she scanned over the crush of bodies, barely enough room to breathe, let alone dance. A smirk of satisfaction crept across her face. They were all there for her. Had paid a ridiculous cover charge to see her. And were currently jammed together tighter than a homebound college kid's laundry basket. For her.

An assistant approached the couch, followed closely by her agent. He flashed a perfectly white smile in her direction. "You ready to roll, superstar?"

Beca threw back the rest of her drink, standing with a nod. As security ushered her to the main stage, brilliantly lit up and hovering over the dance floor, the music faded to a subtle cadence of different effects, and the house DJ – unfortunately shuffled in the corner…Yeah, she had been there too, bro – leaned over the microphone, yelling out to the club-goers flocking the floor.

_ALRIGHT, LA, IT'S TIME TO TURN IT UP._ _PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR FOR MISS BECA MITCHELL, BUT YOU ALL KNOW HER AS…DJ LADY B!_

Beca grinned to herself as the roar rumbled through the crowd. She slipped on her headphones, and the beat of her latest hit on the radio dropped with a vengeance. Perhaps it was a bit narcissistic, but she always took a little bit of pleasure in leading her sets off with a track or two she could lay claim to before transitioning to other songs.

She bobbed her head, fiddling with the levers and dials, infusing a few effects into the already familiar tracks. The energy was electric as the dance floor practically vibrated with the gyrating bodies and the shouts of people singing the lyrics back to her. She could practically feel it permeating her skin as she felt every beat, every thump of the bass, every ringing note from the accompanying vocalist.

This was her dream.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Beca hefted herself out of the SUV, slapping hands with her driver Damon O'Hara before entering her building. It was close to about four in the morning, her set and the subsequent after-party taking her well into the early morning. Now that the adrenaline of performing had worn off – as well as a little bit of her buzz – she fought down the fatigue creeping up on her.

As the elevator doors opened, spilling her into the foyer of her condo, Beca dropped her bag by the door and shuffled straight to the fridge where she grabbed a bottle of beer. Taking a swig, she rotated and stopped short, nearly dropping the bottle as she gazed at back of the worn, brown tweed jacket on the lean, lanky frame in front of her mantle. His head was tilted up, gazing at the three albums affixed to the wall, signifying their certification as platinum. He ran his fingers over the three golden gramophone statuettes sitting proudly in the center. The figure turned, and Beca meet the warm brown eyes that crinkled at the corners. The sight was so achingly familiar to her but so heart-wrenchingly agonizing at the same time.

She breathed out incredulously. "Dad."

Dr. Warren Mitchell flashed the crooked smile she herself was known for as he nodded in greeting. "Beca. Do you normally stay out this late?"

Beca chose to ignore that last question. She was twenty-three for crying out loud. "What are you doing here?" Becca swiveled her head. "How did you even get in?"

Warren smiled wryly. "You should really set your code to something less predictable than your mother's birthday."

"So much for high security," Beca muttered under her breath. She eyed her father suspiciously. "Why are you here?"

Warren cocked an eyebrow, another gesture so eerily reminiscent of one of her own oft-used physical expressions. "A guy can't pay his daughter a visit without the third degree?"

Beca crossed her arms defensively over her chest. "I hear nothing from you in four years," she remarked. "So, yeah, I do think I'm warranted a few misgivings. Why are you here?" She waved a hand at the awards he had been scrutinizing so closely before she had noticed his presence. "Belated congratulations?"

"Not quite." Warren squared up to his daughter. "It's been four years. You remember our deal?"

Beca's eyes narrowed as she played ignorant, lofting her bottle and waving it insolently. "Refresh my alcohol-addled memory."

"I give you four years to make this music thing work then you get your degree."

"You've got to be kidding me," Beca protested. "Isn't the idea of getting a degree to get a good job after college?" She gestured to the lavish surroundings of her condo. "News flash, Dad, I _have_ a good job. I don't _need_ the degree."

"A degree would open doors for you, Beca," Warren responded. "Think of what a college degree would do for you."

"Open _what_ doors? Do _what_ for me, exactly?" Beca persisted. "I seriously doubt whether or not Madonna wants to work with me hinges on a piece of paper that means nothing in the greater scheme of things."

"We had a deal, Bee," her father reminded her, turning on a full, parental glare. "You promised your mother. Do you remember that?"

"Oh no." Beca slashed a hand. She set her bottle down with a muted clink on the kitchen island, bracing her palms on the surface. "You don't get to do that. You don't get to call me that and you don't get to use her. You gave up those rights when you walked out on our family and decided to start from scratch with someone else."

Warren met her cold stare evenly, seemingly un-phased. "What if I said I would throw in the record collection?"

Beca fell silent as her father leveraged the deal. The collection itself was impressive, but nothing to get excited about. There were a few rare ones here and there, but nothing she couldn't track down and purchase for herself. However, there was one record in that collection that meant more sentimentally than any all of the records combined. It was their song, forever encapsulated on vinyl, her mother's favorite song that had some how transcended down to Beca. As hard as she could, Beca couldn't find that album on its original vinyl. Inexplicably, her father was the singular person in the world with that particular record.

Warren approached his daughter, standing on the other side of the kitchen island, the hard granite and solid wood serving as a literal and figurative boundary.

Beca eyed him warily. She ran a weary hand through her hair. "Why are you pushing this? I can understand if nothing came from my four years, if I was just like any other struggling artist barely getting by, but I'm successful. I don't _need_ this degree."

Warren sighed, mirroring her gesture, ruffling the already tousled strands of his hair. "Because you made a promise to your mother, and I know as much as you hate the idea of going back to school, that promise still means something to you. I know it's not going to be for me; I'm well aware of that." He shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "If you're not gonna do it for yourself, at least do it for her because you said you would."

"And what?" Beca mirrored his posture, shoving her own hands in the back pockets of her jeans. "You're conveniently throwing in the record collection?"

Warren smirked. "I want you to do something that you don't _need_ to do. However, I have something you _want_. Seemed like I needed to make the deal sweeter." He extended his hand. "What do you say?"

Beca eyed the offering, flicking her hands from her father's outstretched palm to his winning smile. She had a feeling she was going to definitely regret doing what she was about to do. Against her better judgment, she slapped her palm in her fathers, sealing the deal with a single pump of her arm.

"Fine. Deal."

xxx-xxx-xxx

Beca had idled on the floor of her living room long after her father had left. She looked down to the small grasshopper inked into her inner forearm and rubbed it reverently. It was the first one she had ever gotten, a small reminder to a larger sentiment. It was a reminder of better times.

Beca's home life had never been rainbows and sunshine. The esteemed Dr. Warren Mitchell, everyone's favorite English professor tended to lose himself in the heroes and heroines of the stories he taught to in his courses, throwing himself so thoroughly into his work that he often blended reality with fiction. He was beloved by his students, but practically a stranger to his family. That being said, he was disappointed to find that his rebellious, irritable, mess-of-contradictions daughter didn't fit the mold of the 19th century romantic characters that imbued his specialty. And when he realized his marriage wasn't fitting very well into his idealized pre-planned plot to life, he decided to rewrite the story with a whole new cast of characters. It really wasn't surprising to find out he already had someone who could give him that scenario.

Her mother, however, was a little more rooted in reality. Molly then-Mitchell had embraced everything that was different and intrinsically special about her daughter. It was her mother who introduced her music, who cultivated the seeds of what would turn out to be her love and lifelong dream, and who exposed her to the subtle intricacies of rhythm, chord progressions, and cadence that she would eventually learn to subtly blend together to create her award-winning mixes and songs. It was her mother that taught her about the beauty of grasshoppers.

_**Beca came home to a familiar sight: her mother setting just two places for a family of three. Her father was, once again, working late at the university, leaving Beca and her mother to fend for themselves for the night. Beca didn't mind. It was those days that she cherished the most, when it was just her and her mother and no arguments, no fighting, no looks of disappointment being thrown her way. **_

_**As the two Mitchell girls finished dinner, heading outside to relax, they sat together on the porch swing, idly swinging back and forth, cocooned together beneath a mass of blankets.**_

_** "What's that sound?" Beca asked. "It's like a buzzing…"**_

_** "That is the grasshopper's song," her mother answered.**_

"_**That's not a song!" Beca protested.**_

_**Molly then-Mitchell smiled. "Sure it is." **_

"_**But it's just noise," Beca commented. **_

_** Molly shook her head sagely. "Ah, my little grasshopper…" Beca giggled at the bad accent her mother adopted from their viewings of the **_**Kung Fu**_** series. "Don't think of anything as 'just noise'." **_

_** Beca cocked her head. "What do you mean?"**_

_** "Feel the rhythm…" Molly tapped her feet to accompany the vibrating wings. It was like a drumroll: a single beat before a vibration of sound, a pause, then it all started again.**_

_** Beca matched her mother's beat, moving her sneakered feet in time with Molly's. Her head tilted as she noticed a shift.**_

_** "It's changing." Beca's feet mimicked the change. Tap-tap, tap-tap-tap…Tap-tap, tap-tap-tap…**_

_** "Don't you see?" Molly asked her daughter. "You can find music anywhere. You just have to listen." She looked her daughter straight in the eye. "And if you can find the music where others can't," she gestured vaguely to the grasshoppers out in the distance, "you can be different than everyone else."**_

_** Little did Molly then-Mitchell knew, Beca had not only taken those words to heart, but she allowed them to become an operating principle of her very being, permeating to the underlying fuel to her every thought an action.**_

_** It was what made her not only different but great.**_

It was the first tattoo she had ever gotten, inked into her skin at the tender age of fifteen due to a rather convincing fake ID that claimed her a legal adult (there was no way she could have passed as twenty-one, let's be real) in a moment of rebellion as she was forced to her father's and stepmother's for a weekend. The tattoo artist, a massive monster of a man named Jared who had gentle hands that belied his size and overall bulk, told her the symbolism behind it as the needle repeatedly pierced her skin. According to Jared, the Japanese cherished the song of the grasshoppers and believed the moon coaxed the music from them. She had liked that idea. It was almost symbolic of her own future career as a kickass DJ. The moon hovering overhead as she mixed from the dead of night to the dawn of the morning would fuel the energy of her hypnotic beats to devoted club-goers. It was a pretty sweet visual.

She rubbed absently at the tattoo, her other hand clutching tight to her cell phone. With an aggravated sigh, she scrolled through her favorite contacts, tapping the name of her stepfather.

When her mother had first started dating Arthur Landry, she admitted she was more than suspicious of the handsome construction foreman. He was a far cry than her father's sophisticated, intellectual. Art's uniform wasn't a brown tweed jacket and slacks, it was a pair of beat-up jeans and work boots, complemented by a hardhat and toolbelt. Art was a guy that did manual labor for a living, and it showed. Still, Beca had her reservations. Her father worked a similar type of job, one that demanded long work hours. She knew how that story ended, and she definitely didn't want history repeating itself.

It had taken awhile, but eventually Art wore down Beca's resistance through an almost methodical persistence. Despite his long hours, Art always seemed to make time for Molly and Beca, whether it was something as big as a trip to the amusement park or as small as a family dinner. Eventually, Beca grew to appreciate the simple fact that Art was around. She never did transcend the boundary of calling him "Dad" or something equally as parental. The connotation of the word held such a sour taste in her mouth, she really didn't want to degrade their relationship by utilizing it, as silly as it sounded. Still, she grew to love her stepfather, very much solidifying Art as the primary male figure in her life and she never hesitated to call and ask him for advice…like when she was contemplating a rather important life decision.

The phone didn't ring for long until the soothing baritone of her stepfather sounded through the speaker.

"Hey, Bumblebee. Everything okay?"

Beca smiled at the familiar nickname, leaning against the front of the couch. The question befuddled her slightly. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

"Well," Art drew out the word, "you normally don't call me at seven in the morning…ever. I didn't think you knew what seven in the morning looked like."

Beca started, eyes flying to the clock over the mantle, noting that he was correct. It was just past four in the morning in LA, which meant seven in Brooklyn. Huh. She had no idea where time had gone.

"I know what seven in the morning looks like," Beca defended herself. "I just don't like to voluntarily experience it."

Art chuckled. "Fair enough." There was a shuffling noise, and Beca could only imagine him sitting at his desk, poring over the work assignments for his crew or whatever project he was currently overseeing, the Bob the Builder toy she had given him right next to a photo of their family. "So what's up, kiddo?"

Beca sighed. "My dad stopped by last night."

"That's different," Art commented. "What did he want?"

"He came to remind me about our deal." Beca picked at a loose thread of her sweatpants. "You know, the one I made with him before Mom died? About college?"

"Okay…"

"He wants me to finish up school at Barden."

"Hmmm," Art considered the scenario. "And what do _you_ want, Beca?"

"I…" Beca faltered, gathering her thoughts. "I want Mom to be proud of me."

"Oh, honey, I know she would be so proud of you. I know I am."

"Thanks, Art." Beca sighed, running a hand through her hair. "But would she want me to go back to school?"

"She would want you to be happy," Art hedged.

Beca sighed. He didn't answer the question. "Art…"

"Alright, alright." Art paused for a moment. "Yes, I do believe she really would want you to have that degree."

"I don't know what to do," Beca mumbled. "I know that's what she would want, too…but…"

"But you don't want your dad to hold it over your head," Art finished.

"Yeah."

"You want know what I think?"

"Please?"

"I don't think your Mom would have pushed so hard for you to go to college if she didn't think you could learn something there that you couldn't in the real world," Art stated. "I think there's something waiting for you to be taught at Barden that goes beyond the degree."

"Like what?"

"I don't know," Art admitted. "But it wouldn't hurt to find out, would it?"

Beca was silent for a long moment before an aggravated sigh of concession flew from her lips. "Dammit, Art. Why do you have to be right?"

"I work with big, heavy machines," Art reminded his stepdaughter. "If I'm wrong, well…"

Beca absorbed that with a wry chuckle, huffing out her displeasure towards their proposed solution. "Thanks, Art."

Art laughed. "No problem, kiddo. I love you."

Beca smiled. "Love you, too."

Beca ended the call, tossing her phone onto the coffee table. She tipped over, sprawling onto the floor of her living room with a grunt.

Well…shit.

xxx-xxx-xxx

She wished it was that easy to simply slip into acceptance of her inevitable collegiate venture, but the closer the end of August loomed, the more her sense of foreboding swelled. With the tedious process of applying, consolidating all of her previous credits from high school for the few that transferred to college units, and finally registering for her classes, she felt what little resolve she still carried to keeping her word start to wane.

Still, she found herself idling at the entrance to her building, waiting for the car that would fly her across the country to Barden University where she was about to become a…college student. This all seemed fundamentally backward…

Beca sighed, hitching her bag higher on her shoulder. "I can't believe I'm doing this," she muttered under her breath.

She frowned when she saw Damon hauling a bunch of suitcases that certainly weren't hers at his feet. "You going somewhere?"

"You'll need a driver in Atlanta," Damon pointed out, rolling to a stop beside her. "I know your ass hasn't been behind a wheel in over a year. I'd be scared for people on the road if you even _approached_ the drivers' door."

Beca softened. "Damon, you don't need to do that."

Damon shrugged. "You go, I go, dude. Besides," he flashed a set of straight, white teeth. "You pay better than anyone."

Beca bit her lip. "You sure about this?"

Damon shrugged. "I was an ex-con who couldn't find a decent job. Imagine my surprise when some five foot-nothing little pipsqueak takes a chance on me. I appreciate that. So for as long as you want me around, I'll be here." He grinned. "Like I said, you pay way better than any crazy nine-to-five I would have found myself in…"

Beca frowned, handing her luggage to Damon. "You think I'll be able to survive down there, Damon?"

Damon chuckled, hefting their bags into the car. "Girl, it sounds like you're gonna have to." He tllted his head down to his boss with a wry smirk. "Or you could just do what you always do…"

Beca laughed. "Fuck it all, raise hell, and leave a trail of destruction in my wake?"

Damon shrugged. "Why not? You agreed to finish up college." He winked. "Don't mean you gotta do it quietly…"

Beca thought about that for a second. He did have a point.

xxx-xxx-xxx

A cross-country flight gave Beca a lot of time to think. As the large plane cruised across the bright blue sky at 35,000 feet, Beca leaned back against the plush headrest, losing herself to her thoughts. Her father was right, she did promise her mother that she would at least attempt to finish college. It was a final deal that she promised her mother before Molly Mitchell-Landry succumbed to her long-suffering bout with breast cancer.

_**Beca sighed heavily, crossing her arms over her chest in one last show of defiance, glaring headily at her father. Warren Mitchell hadn't given her much thought since he had cut and run when Beca was ten, aside from the occasional mandatory visit for a holiday or weekend. But now, as she was mere months away from graduation and had expressed her desire not to go to college, Warren had finally exercised a modicum of his parental obligation and put his foot down. **_

_** "You're going to college," Warren insisted, assuming what Beca assumed was a pose of parental authority, thrusting a finger forward, his free hand on his hip.**_

_** "No, I'm not. I'm going to be a DJ in LA," Beca snarled, eyes shooting daggers across the room. "You know, you don't get to just come in here and pick and choose when you want to parent me. You can't expect full-time pay with part-time hours."**_

_** "Beca…"**_

_**Her mother cocked an eyebrow from her spot on the hospital bed, warning her silently. From beside her, Art leaned over flicking Beca's ear in admonishment. The teenager flinched, but relaxed her posture.**_

_** "C'mon, Mom," Beca whined. "Why do I even need to go? They don't have degrees for DJ-ing." **_

_** "You can't expect to get a good job without a degree," Warren insisted.**_

_** "You don't need a degree to be a DJ," Beca mumbled.**_

_** "I agree with your father," Molly answered. "You do need a degree."**_

_** Beca huffed, throwing her head back against the chair. "But I hate school." **_

_** "Promise me," Molly insisted. "Promise me you'll at least try and finish."**_

_** "What's the point?" Beca challenged. "I'd rather be doing something I loved rather than having this stupid higher education forced on me."**_

_** Molly considered that point, surveying her daughter closely. "Is this really want you want to do?" Molly asked. "Do you really believe you can make it as a DJ?" **_

_** "Music is my life," Beca answered solemnly. "I need it like I need oxygen. I'm willing to do whatever it takes."**_

_** "Oh, come on! Let's not get overdramatic," Warren protested. "Music is a hobby, not a profession."**_

_** Beca shot her father a dirty look as she surged up from her seat. "This is coming from someone who **_**reads**_** for a living."**_

_** "Okay, okay, you two," Molly raised her voice, cutting through the impending argument. "Back to your corners. Let's talk about this rationally."**_

_**Both Beca and Warren grumbled, acquiescing. Warren retreated to the wall adjacent to the door, leaning up against the windowsill. Beca plopped back down on her chair with a muted thump.**_

"_**Okay, let's compromise. Here's the deal," Molly leveled a Level-Ten Mom Glare on her daughter. "Four years for four years. You get your four years to go down to LA and do your DJ-ing." Beca let out a whoop of triumph. Molly called out to Beca before her daughter's celebrating completely took her attention away from the rest of the deal.**_

"**But**_** after those four years, you have to go back and get your degree." Molly lofted a hand, pinky extended. "Do we have a deal?"**_

_** Beca visibly calmed. She looked into her mother's expectant eyes, the same cornflower blue as her own, and nodded resolutely, wrapping her pinky around Molly's. "Deal."**_

_** "Remember you promised me, Rebeca," Molly shook their joined hands. "I don't care if it takes you ten years, you get that degree."**_

_** Beca again nodded, her face showing determination. "I will. And when I do it, I'll already be an awesome DJ."**_

_** "Wait, wait," Warren spoke up for the first time. "Why can't it be the other way around? Why can't she finish college first? Why let her go gallivanting off to LA first?"**_

_** "Warren, you know Beca," Molly challenged. "If she wants to do something whether or not you approve, she will find a way to do it." Molly shot her daughter a wink. "Just look at how many tattoos she thought she could sneak by us. At least this way, she will get some college."**_

_** "How do we even know after four years she'll even go back?" Warren argued. "What's this bargain even going to do?"**_

"_**I got her agree to go to college," Molly pointed out. "That's further than you got, Warren. She wouldn't even consider the idea. At least this way, she'll eventually get her four years in."**_

_**Warren looked to his daughter, the daughter he had never quite understood. For the first time since they had even broached the subject, her cornflower blue eyes were wide with excitement, and she practically vibrated in her seat.**_

"_**Fine," he conceded. "But she also has to do an activity and participate in it. I don't care when, but it has to be at least two years. That's my part of the deal."**_

_**Beca waved him off, already bouncing in her chair at the thought of pursuing her dream. "Yeah, fine, whatever."**_

_** It was a moment of levity, one that didn't last long. Mere days later, Molly was clinging to her last minutes of life, finally succumbing to her illness. Beca sat right by her mother's side, hand tangled in Molly's as though their connection would filter life energy into her mother's waning body.**_

_**Art sat beside her, resolutely clinging to his stepdaughter's hand and his wife's. He clenched his jaw, trying not to crumble, serving as the rock for his family.**_

_** "I'm scared, Mom," Beca whispered. "Please don't leave us."**_

_**Molly smiled. "Don't be scared, baby. I'm with you, no matter what. You just keep your head up, and you keep plugging forward. One step at a time, one day at a time."**_

_**Beca bit her lip, the tears threatening to spill over. "What am I gonna do without you?"**_

_** "You're gonna be great, Little Bee," her mother promised, cradling her daughter's cheek. "You really want to make music, right?"**_

_**Beca nodded emphatically. "Yes." **_

"_**Then you promise me that you never let anything or anyone stop you. Don't let anyone hold you back. As long as you love music, you go out there and you go get that dream." Molly tucked a stubborn strand of hair behind Beca's ear. "Just remember to find the music."**_

_**Molly looked to Art, another feeble smile crossing her face. "Thank you for giving us a family."**_

_**Art sniffed. "Thanks for loving me."**_

"_**I love you both. So much."**_

_** There was a sense of finality in that statement, the goodbye left not vocalized. The atmosphere shifted, and the sense of premonition swelled from white noise to a deafening roar.**_

_** Molly's chest rose and fell raggedly, all of her strength concentrated in the simple task.**_

_** The pauses between inhales and exhales lengthened, each intake of breath a little more of a struggle than the one before.**_

_**In.**_

_**Out.**_

…_**In.**_

…_**Out.**_

…_**In…**_

…_**Out…**_

…

…

…

_**The flat line mocked two of the three occupants from the monitor.**_

_** Beca laid her head on her mother's still chest, the other threaded through Art's, and together, they cried.**_

Beca sighed, wiping away the lone tear that trickled down the curve of her cheekbone. That was a hard memory, one that definitely served as a foundation to her formative years. She was grateful for Art, who had taken guardianship over her.

Beca slid out of the vehicle, Damon following with her bags. She glanced up as she heard her name called, unsurprised her father was waiting for her. Beca smiled tightly as he came to a stop in front of her, a wide smile on his face.

"Didn't know welcome wagon duties came with the PhD," Beca drawled. "Is that on your office door, too?"

Warren shrugged. "To be honest, I wasn't sure you were going to show up."

"Nice to know you have so much faith in me," Beca deadpanned, hefting the all-important bag carrying her laptop over her shoulder. "Gives me all sorts of warm fuzzies."

"I'll show you to your room." Warren stooped down, picking up one of her bags.

"Let me guess, you signed me up for a dorm," Beca drawled.

Warren cocked his head. "Yeah. As a professor, housing benefits are extended to any of my family members who attend Barden."

"I figured." Beca picked up her other bag, turning in the opposite direction. "I appreciate the gesture and that you thought of me, but I'm not going to spend eight months or whatever in some tiny, cramped dorm room. Lucky for me, I have a personal assistant whom I pay extremely well to make sure I'm comfortable." Beca smiled fondly. "God, I love her." She smirked. "So much that I sent her on a vacation for a couple of weeks while I settle in here." Shaking her head, she returned her attention back to the matter at hand. "Anyway, I've already got an apartment."

Warren frowned, but he could do nothing more than redirect his course and follow his daughter and her driver. She led him down a path he had never ventured, knowing that the price range for the apartments were almost disgustingly egregious, even for students who had the cushion of parental wealth. Warren looked around at his surroundings, way too lavish for the average college student. He looked to his daughter, lugging along her bags with her personal chauffeur trailing behind her.

Then again…

"Huh." Warren dropped the bag in his hand and glanced at the fairly large apartment, already prepared for his daughter. "I didn't know housing even got this big."

Beca shrugged. "It's huge and extremely convenient, so it would cost a normal student an arm and a leg…maybe a couple of toes. But I can afford to pay extra."

"You could have stayed in the dorms," Warren reasoned. "You wouldn't have to pay…"

"Look," Beca cut him off, "I agreed to finish off my end of the deal, but I'm here to finish my degree, not immerse myself in the college experience. I don't need that." She waved a hand absently towards the second bedroom where her equipment was already set up. "In case you've forgotten, I still do have a career that's not gonna stop because I'm here. I'm gonna need space to work in between classes, and that's not happening with some dour-faced, nerd-extreme glaring at me from the other side of the room because I'm playing with five different tracks, none of which are Brahms and Beethoven."

Warren lofted his hands up in surrender. "Fine."

"Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go do…whatever." Beca rotated, calling back over her shoulder to her father. "The door locks when you close it."

"Don't forget the other end of the deal," Warren reminded her as she stormed away.

Beca stopped in her tracks, rotating slowly. She leveled an impressive glare at her father. "What other end of the deal?"

"You promised to get involved in one school activity." Warren hitched a thumb over his shoulder.

"When did I ever agree to that?" Beca protested.

"I'm pretty sure you tuned me out the moment I started talking," Warren remarked wryly. "But you did. If you join a club and actually participate," he bargained. "I might be a little more lax. I might be okay in letting you go back to LA after the year instead of making you finish."

Beca's eyes narrowed. "You do realize I could just up and leave, right? If I really wanted to I could just say 'Screw you' and walk out."

"You could," Warren conceded. "But you won't."

One eyebrow inched steadily upward in the silent challenge. "And why not?"

Warren shrugged. "Look, I know how much your mother meant to you. I know that when you said you'd do something for her that you meant it. Maybe it's not exactly ethical that I'm holding that over you, but you're not giving me much to work with."

Inwardly, Beca cursed, throwing a tantrum worthy of the world's most immature child. She hated that her father had something to hold over her head. She hated that the record he held hostage meant so much to her. Most of all, she hated how he was right. She had made that promise to her mother. It was one of the last conversations they had together before Molly passed away.

Outwardly, Beca feigned her disinterest. No use in showing her hand, after all. "Alright, fine. I'll start looking for something."

Warren smiled winningly. "Excellent. Lucky for you, the activities fair is right across campus. We have a couple of competitive singing groups you could join."

"Yeah," Beca scoffed, tromping out the door. "Because amateur collegiate teams would risk their eligibility by taking on an already paid professional."

xxx-xxx-xxx

Chloe Beale stood in front of the meticulously-crafted Barden Bella's booth, an armful of flyers tucked against her forearm, casually scanning the masses. She had donned a modest dress and heels with the hope she projected the wholesome, traditional image the Bellas were known for. She expected it would attract the types of girls that usually made up their group…girls who had hopefully not ventured on YouTube recently.

So far…no such luck.

Those damn Trebels…

Her eyes zeroed in on a petite brunette simply oozing with equal parts swagger and apathy. She wasn't a physically dominating presence – she had to be barely over five feet tall, but there was just something about her. How she tried to blend into the crowd…but failed miserably. Chunky headphones hung from around her neck as she swiveled and cornflower blue eyes lined heavily in black scanned the booths with a disinterested leer as her heavy boots took her lazily through the fair. Chloe cocked an eyebrow as she recognized the brand; those were an expensive pair, way too expensive to be worn so carelessly from the neck.

Immediately, she knew Aubrey would hate her, taking in the girl's careless slouch, the alternative-style clothing, her heavy makeup, the tattoos sprinkling over her pale skin, and the multitude of piercings – Oh, sweet Bella, was that a spike in one ear? – but there was just something that was drawing Chloe's attention to the way the girl seemed to part the masses. Chloe was certain the girl had no idea how every eye turned towards her in her wake, but it was that something, that star quality they so desperately needed, that forced Chloe to point her out to Aubrey.

"No," Aubrey immediately shut down the idea. "She's definitely too alternative for us."

"I don't know," Chloe pursed her lips thoughtfully, unable to tear her gaze from the approaching girl. "There's something about her." Before Aubrey could voice her objection again, Chloe had stepped forward, catching the other girl's attention.

"Hi! Any interest in joining our music group?"

xxx-xxx-xxx

So far, Beca's venture through the activities fair had been widely disappointing. Wandering through the booths, she hadn't found anything worth joining. There had been a " Barden DJ" booth, but that, apparently was for the Deaf Jews society.

Go figure.

She was about a half-step from turning around and heading back to her apartment when a bright, perky voice interrupted her inner musings.

"Hi! Any interest in joining our music group?"

Beca turned her head, meeting vivid blue eyes. Like a beacon, they drew her in, taking her feet across the pathway right in front of a pretty redhead clad in a modest blue dress that made her baby blue eyes pop. Beca surveyed the woman in front of her, all full of endearing, bubbly charm, highlighted with a bright, beaming smile. She could see the redhead's taller, blonde counterpart eyeing her with barely disguised disgust and she smirked.

"Depends," Beca drawled. "What would I be doing?" She cocked an eyebrow, a twinkle in her eyes. "I mean, aside from spending time with such enchanting company."

"We're a competitive a cappella group," the redhead to her right explained, fighting the flattered blush from appearing on her cheeks.

"Award-winning and certainly the best Barden has to offer," the blonde cut in haughtily. "We perform with the goal of reaching the national competition in New York."

Beca nodded slowly. "Interesting." She tilted her head. "So we're not talking accompanying background music or anything?"

"Nope! We don't use instruments," the redhead enthused. "It's just from our mouths."

Beca's smirk broadened as she unabashedly ran an appreciative gaze up and down the redhead's attractive figure, her attentions rewarded with a slight blush. "Just from your mouth, huh?" Beca winked again. "Sounds like a useful talent."

"Useful?" Again, the blonde cut in, indignant that such an innuendo would be inserted in relation to a cappella. "We are the cornerstone of everything great and noble about the Barden tradition!"

Beca recoiled slightly at the blonde's emphatic statement. "Yikes, easy there, Turbo. Pump your breaks before innocents get run over."

"Sorry," the redhead apologized for her friend. "Aubrey's devotion tends to override her filter."

Beca shrugged, her attention focused more on the redhead than the crazy blonde. "No worries."

The blonde, Aubrey, huffed. "Chloe, you're obviously wasting your time. I'm gonna go mingle, see if anyone looks promising." Without another glance, the blonde turned on her heel and stormed away.

"Sorry," the redhead – Chloe – apologized again. "She's just…intense about this whole thing."

Beca shook her head. "No big deal. I understand her passion, I guess."

Chloe extended a flyer. "Our auditions are tomorrow if you would like to attend."

"Sorry, I don't even sing, so…" The girl let her statement hang as she punctuated it with an indifferent shrug.

Chloe couldn't fight the disappointment from creeping into her tone. "I'm sorry to hear that. It was nice meeting you…"

"Beca," Beca supplied. "I'll be sure to try and catch a performance, see how good you are with that mouth." With a final wink, she backed away from the booth.

"See you around."

"Bye." Chloe watched the girl – Beca – depart, her intrinsic swagger drawing Chloe's eyes to the tiny girl's hips. Biting her lip, hoping the flush wasn't evident in her cheeks, she returned her attention to other students milling around, hoping to find another potential candidate.

Aubrey appeared at her elbow, looking no more optimistic than when she left. "Is she auditioning?"

Chloe shook her head. "No, she doesn't sing."

Aubrey feigned disappointment. "Darn…"

Chloe, unfortunately, did not share in Aubrey's lack of enthusiasm. She bit her lip, watching Beca's tousle-locked brunette head weave through the crowd. For some reason, she should shake the feeling that they had missed out on something extraordinary.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Beca continued on through the activities fair, nothing particularly captivating her interest. She eased down onto a bench, securing her headphones over her ears. Losing herself in the music, Beca simply tilted her head back, letting it all simmer around her.

It was a different sort of hustle and bustle than in the city, she noticed. The atmosphere in LA was an almost controlled chaos, a myriad of noise and lights with way too many people crammed in a relatively small area fighting one another to arrive at respective destinations way too far away. There was a sort of comfort in LA, a familiarity in knowing which freeways were going to be the worst at what time and the types of people she knew she was going to encounter on her weekly visits to the studio or to the record company's corporate headquarters.

This was…just chaos. Barden University was a veritable chasm of constant movement. It was easy to spot the freshmen from the upperclassmen. Freshmen kept their heads on an invariable swivel, attempting to take in as much of the campus as possible while at the same time attempting to feign familiarity with their surroundings. In contrast, the upperclassmen moved almost on autopilot, navigating through the crush of students with the cool indifference of those who had been there, done that.

Beca jolted upright with a start, feeling a foot impact with her outstretched legs, spilling a dark-haired guy to the ground. She slipped her headphones down to around her neck leaning over to help the guy up. "Whoa, dude! I'm sorry."

The guy waved her off but accepted her hand, hauling himself to his feet. "No, my fault…Oh, you gotta be kidding me!"

Beca let out an uncharacteristic squeal as she gazed into the now-matured face of the childhood best friend she hadn't seen in over ten years. "No way! Jesse Evans?!"

"What?! Bee Sting Beca Mitchell in the flesh!" Jesse yanked her to her feet and snatched Beca up in a fierce embrace twirling her around.

Beca grinned, accepting his bear hug. "You go here? How did I not know this?"

Jesse laughed as he released her, plopping down on the bench beside her. "It's not like it ever came up in the random messages…you know, once I actually got your email address and not the generic stuff from your website."

Beca grinned. "Had to make sure you weren't a crazy." She leaned in, bumping him with a shoulder. "I get those nowadays, you know."

"I always wondered what happened when you and your mom moved away to the east coast," Jesse remarked. "Imagine my surprise about ten years later, I see your face plastered all over _Rolling Stone_…"

"Hey, keep it down," Beca reached out, punching him in the shoulder. "I'm trying to keep a low profile."

"So what are you doing here?" Jesse propped an ankle on his opposite knee. "I mean, I know your dad teaches here, I've actually had a couple of his classes…but…" He shrugged. "It's not like you need to go to college or anything."

"Yeah…" Beca's head lolled back against the back of the bench. "I'm just making sure I follow through on a promise I made my mom before she…" Beca trailed off.

"Yeah…" Jesse tugged absently at his earlobe. "I heard about that."

A corner of Beca's mouth quirked morosely. "I got your card."

"I'm sorry," he offered.

Beca nodded. "Thanks."

"So…" Jesse cleared his throat. "Seriously, what are you doing here?"

Beca smirked wryly. "I go here."

Jesse looked absolutely thunderstruck at that admission. "Why?"

She sighed, nodding slowly. "That's a great question."

Jesse opened his mouth to pursue the subject when a shout of his name caught his attention. Jesse's head craned back, and he saw a group of his friends waving him over from across the lawn. He lofted a finger in acknowledgment before turning back to Beca. "I've gotta go. I'll catch you soon?"

Beca nodded. "Give me your number. We'll hang out."

Jesse fished his phone from his pocket, punching in Beca's number as she recited it to him. He stood, giving her another hug. "I'll give you a call later in the week?"

Beca smiled. "Sounds good."

Jesse grinned. "See you, Bee."

xxx-xxx-xxx

Without much left to do in her day, Beca made her way to the student wellness center to get a workout in. It gave her something monotonous to do to escape the wide range of emotions currently flowing through her as she came into contact with so many different aspects of her past. Mounting a treadmill in the corner, she cued up one of her many workout playlists, set her speed, and started to move.

Honestly, she hated running…with a stark, burning passion. However, constant performances surprisingly required a lot of endurance, especially on tour, so she had gotten into the habit of eating right, limiting her alcohol intake – even when the temptation to do otherwise was readily available – and doing a forty five-minute cardio session at least twice a week.

Her feet moved at a constant rhythm, matching the beat pulsing through the modest earbuds. Beca moved with a singular purpose, powering through her workout, oblivious to the attention she was getting from the other Barden students.

It was practically one of the few regimented aspects of her life: Forty-five minutes at a six mile-per-hour clip, then five minutes of a cool down at a brisk walk. Fifty minutes, total. For as much, some of her best mixes came from an idea that sparked a flame during a workout, the almost mindless activity allowing her time to think. And, unfortunately, being at Barden caused her thoughts to drift to the father who walked out of her life when she was ten.

_**Beca had never felt as though her father understood her. His world existed on two dimensions: the world within his kingdom of Portland State University and the world within the series of books that constituted his given courses. That being said, Beca guessed she wasn't surprised her father had strayed to a woman who worked with him at the university and was now expecting a child with her.**_

_** Beca glared as the yellow cab her father climbed into reversed out of their driveway. Warren didn't even look back, merely climbed into the backseat. She glanced sideways at her mother as Molly plopped down beside her on the porch step.**_

_** "Why doesn't he want us?" Beca asked, the disgust clear in her voice. "Why aren't we good enough?"**_

_** "It's not that he doesn't want us…" Molly hedged.**_

_** Beca shot her a disbelieving look, one eyebrow cocked. **_

_** Molly sighed. "He was just…" Molly struggled for words. To be honest, Warren Mitchell lived in a very narrow universe. Things that didn't fit into his universe were often dismissed. Unfortunately, as time wore on, it seemed that neither Molly nor Beca fit.**_

_** "He just wasn't thinking about us."**_

_** Beca scoffed. That certainly wasn't new. It seemed like her father put all his effort and affection into his job and those stupid books. Didn't seem to leave much for them. **_

_**Beca's cornflower blue eyes blazed with indignant fire, and Molly sighed again inwardly. She knew right then her daughter had traversed into an arena Molly idealistically wished Beca would remain ignorant. Life had taught her a very tough lesson at a very young age. Sometimes, people leave and sometimes, the ones who were supposed to stick around were the ones that disappointed you the most. Looking at her daughter, hunched on the porch step, watching her father's cab disappear around the corner, Molly desperately wished her daughter didn't have to see this side of love.**_

_**Beca's gaze grew fiercer, burning with resolute determination. "Well, **_**I**_** don't want **_**him**_**. We don't need him."**_

_**Molly smiled sadly. No, they didn't need him, but she would have never wanted her daughter to harbor those feelings of resentment to her father, as selfish as he was. Still, no matter what, she vowed to make sure Beca never felt unwanted again.**_

"_**No, Bumblebee, we don't need him." Molly held up her hand, pinky extended. "Just you and me."**_

_**Beca nodded decisively, wrapping her pinky around Molly's. "Just you and me."**_

It wasn't long after that day Warren took a job at Barden, moving to Atlanta while Molly and Beca left Oregon for Brooklyn, New York to be closer to Molly's family on the east coast. As she ensconced herself in her father's university, Beca was well aware that a lot of her reluctance to return to school was rooted in the deep-seeded daddy issues from her childhood. For the longest time, she had such a negative connotation with college, attributing the institution with everything that resulted in her father's abandonment. And now, surrounded by all the little nuances that quite literally caused her father to stray in so many ways, Beca couldn't help but feel that resentment fuel so much of her current attitude.

As the last chords of "Titanium" by David Guetta, featuring Sia faded into silence, signaling the end of her workout, Beca slowed her tempo to a walk before an eventual stop. She braced her hands on the railings, catching her breath before she snatched her towel from the left railing. Beca mopped her face and took a swig of water as she climbed down from the treadmill. Taking a moment to steady herself – that first step off was always a bit unsettling – Beca took a deep, cleansing breath and headed to the showers.

Clearing her mind, Beca trumped into the communal showers, stripping down and stepping into the small tile stall, absently humming to herself.

_Bulletproof…  
Nothing to lose, fire away, fire away  
Ricochet, you take your aim, fire away, fire away  
You shoot me down, but I won't fall, I am titanium_

"You _can_ sing!"

Beca jumped with a shriek at the unexpected voice wafting in behind her. She whirled, finding luminous blue eyes beaming excitedly in her direction, recognizing the redhead from the activities fair. "Dude!"

"How high does your belt go?"

"About as high as the scream I'm desperately holding back." Beca knew the serious answer to that question, but she was much more preoccupied with the sight in front of her. She was used to naked females barging into her shower, but normally there was a pre-established level of familiarity. She never had a practical stranger stand before her so unashamedly.

Said stranger merely took another step into the stall, unconcerned as Beca shrunk into the corner in a futile attempt to preserve her modesty. "You have to join the Bellas."

Beca fought to keep her eyeline at a respectable level. It was difficult. Perky breasts, a trim waist, washboard abs, and long, slender legs were ready for her perusal if she would just drop her gaze.

_Pull it together, Mitchell. Don't be that perv_, she chastised her inner teenaged boy. "I can't concentrate on anything you're saying until you cover your junk," Beca choked out instead, desperately trying to keep the leer from her voice.

"Just consider it," the redhead insisted. "One time, we sang backup for _Prince_."

That was charming. The Artist Formerly Known As An Unpronounceable Symbol had begged her for months to collaborate on a track. Unfortunately, he had to take a backseat to a recording session with Queen featuring Adam Lambert. What could she say? In any royal hierarchy, especially the royal hierarchy of all things rock and roll, a Queen would trump a Prince any day. Besides, she had a serious weakness for all things Freddie Mercury…may he rest in peace in the Great Wembley Stadium in the Sky. Shaking herself from the thought, Beca remembered her current state of undress and the current state of undress of her companion. "Seriously…not that I mind the view…but I'm nude."

Turning her back did nothing to dissuade the odd redhead who seemed to have no sense of personal boundaries as she inched even closer into the stall. "You were singing 'Titanium', right?"

That caught Beca's interest, and she glanced over her shoulder. Hmmm, slight twist. She wasn't aware a cappella people were even cognizant of music from the twenty-first century. "You know David Guetta?"

"Have I been living under a rock? Yeah. That song is my jam." Chloe bobbed her head. "My _lady_ jam."

Beca let out a bark of laughter, the innuendo clear in the redhead's words and gesture. "That's nice…"

"It is. That song really builds." She punctuated the statement with a wink.

The visual immediately flooded every inch of her mind, sending the heat from her face plummeting down her body to pool low in her belly. Whatever comment had flashed in her brain dissipated before it could be expelled from her mouth.

Hot.

Beca was so caught up in the visual that she almost didn't hear the next question. "Can you sing it for me?"

That took her aback. "Dude, no." The fact that she was naked and the girl seriously invading her personal space had just subtly hinted to the true nature of the song was a little too much for Beca to handle at once. "Get out!"

"Not for that reason," she persisted. "I'm not leaving until you sing, so…"

Beca hefted out a heavy sigh, succumbing to the inevitable. She had no doubt the perky redhead would do just that. Opening her mouth, she let her voice push through her embarrassment.

_Bulletproof…  
Nothing to lose, fire away, fire away_

The girl had picked up with her on the second line of the verse, melding her voice with Beca's. Immediately, Beca was impressed on how quickly the redhead established their tonal differences and took the higher harmony. Beca straightened, an invisible force drawing her closer to her unwitting companion, as though the power of the song was laying the foundations of an irresistible connection.

_Ricochet, you take your aim, fire away, fire away  
You shoot me down, but I won't fall, I am titanium_

She was talented, Beca surmised as she locked eyes with the redhead. The girl – _Chloe!_ That was the name the bitchy blonde had used at the activities fair – definitely had a beautiful voice, a light, lilting soprano with an almost delicate resonance. She could tell the Chloe's strength was in her higher register and her ability to sustain it. As the last note rang through the admittedly impressive acoustics of the shower, Beca could feel the electricity pass between them, a potent connection that almost vibrated with its power…

…Then she remembered she was naked in a shower with a near stranger.

_Awkward_.

Chloe must have picked up on the shifting tension between them – and the fact that Beca's eyes briefly broke the unspoken pact of solidarity against the teenage boy in her trying to fight its way out in the presence of a hot, naked woman; yeah, alright, she looked – and took a step back.

"Oh, yeah, I'm pretty confident about," Chloe gestured to her body, "all this."

A corner of Beca's mouth quirked upward. "You should be." Her smirk widened. "I really don't mind the view, but I'm trying to make sure chivalry doesn't completely become extinct."

Chloe grinned. "I appreciate your efforts to protect my modesty."

Beca broke out the big, puppy dog eyes, nodding solemnly. "It's a real challenge."

Chloe remembered that her shower-mate didn't share the same level of comfort in her nudity, evident in the flush that was trickling down to Beca's collarbone. "Oh!" She reached behind her, plucking Beca's towel from the rack just outside the curtain. "Here."

Grateful for some cover, Beca tucked the towel beneath her armpits. "Thanks."

Chloe waggled her fingers, flouncing out of the stall. "See you at auditions!"

Beca chuckled, shaking her head as the redhead exited her shower. What the hell did she just get herself into?

She tilted her head as she followed the swaying hips retreating back to another still.

_Nice_.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Beca trumped back into her apartment and plopped down on the couch. Slinging her gym bag onto the floor, she pulled out her phone and saw she had a missed call from her best friend back in LA. Sliding her thumb across the screen, she activated the call and raised the phone to her ear. As the call connected, Beca flipped on her television, mindlessly flicking through the viewing guide for anything interesting. It wasn't long before the loud, boisterous voice rang through the speaker.

"Yo, B. Mitch! How's it down south? You plowing your way through some Georgia plains? Enjoying some good ole southern hospitality? Drowning yourself in some homegrown Georgia peach juice?" The voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. "They say those southern belles are just looking for an uncouth Yankee to sweep them off their feet."

Beca let out a delighted bark of laughter. "What the hell am I gonna do without you, Jules?"

"Jules," known to more polite company as Julianne Avery, mirrored the laugh, and Beca could see her shrug on the other line in her mind's eye. "Dunno, B, and I'm not sure I'm up to a trip down to the Dirty South…not after the Mardi Gras trip of 2011. I'm preeetty sure I left a part of my liver back in the Big Easy."

Jules was the creative yin to Beca's yang, her frequent co-producer and best friend. Where Beca was the talent, Jules was the business, and the combination of their strengths, supplemented by their ambition to take the music world by storm had resulted in Beca's three studio albums – all certified multi-platinum, thank you very much. In the four years they had worked together, Jules and Beca had built quite an impressive résumé and discography between them.

"So are you alive?"

Beca huffed out a snort, idly changing channels to some entertainment show. "Just barely."

"You piss off your dad yet?"

"Only took me five minutes," Beca informed her proudly.

"See anyone naked yet? Some luscious lady lover looking for a little slice of the rich and famous DJ Lady B?"

Beca cocked her head, chuckling to herself. "Now that you mentioned it, yeah. Some girl barged into my shower."

"Awesome. Did you do her?"

"Oh my God, you are such a perv," Beca accused fondly. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you need to get laid."

"Psh," Jules dismissed that idea succinctly. "Well did you?"

"No." Beca considered her point. "She was attracted to my awesome singing voice and wanted to recruit me for her a cappella group. She was hot though."

"You gonna join?"

"Dunno if I can. Might be cheating, you know?"

"They're probably lame," Jules reasoned.

"They could be good," Beca felt the need to defend.

"Maybe…" There was a pause, and Beca could practically _hear_ the smirk in Jules's voice. "_Are_ you gonna do her?"

Beca sighed, leaning back against the cushions of her couch, her legs extended out and propped up against the coffee table. "She doesn't seem like the type I could just…"

"Hump and dump?"

Beca rolled her eyes. "Dude, seriously, you have the narrowest of one-track minds."

"Part of my charm," Jules declared. She quickly returned to the matter at hand. "But, really…"

"No," Beca answered after a long while. Her head tilted back, nestling more comfortably against the couch cushions. Her thoughts drifted to Chloe. Not to that last, highly distracting encounter, but to their first encounter and how Chloe's big, baby blues had drawn her in from all the way across the fair. A lot of things about the redhead seemed to be categorized as bright from her hair, to her smile, to those magnetic, blue spheres. She seemed to be that sort of person with the most vivacious and effervescent of personalities. The bleakness of life had yet to yank the optimism out of those eyes.

"She's not that type." Beca ran a hand through her hair. She was sure she knew the type of girl Chloe was, the type that looked for the relationship with long-term goals in mind. Idly, Beca wondered if the redhead had ever experienced a one-night stand. Shaking her head, Beca vanished the tantalizing visual.

"She's the…_forever_ type."

Jules was silent for a long while. "Yeah, that's scary."

Beca sighed. "Tell me about it." She tipped over to lie fully atop the couch, her eyes fixated on the ceiling of her apartment. "Jules?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't know if I'm gonna survive this place."

"Dude…that sucks."

_And there we go! I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter. Up next, Beca settles in to her new digs, and some Bellas conspire to bring their set to the present century._

_Okay, so in doing research on ICCA, mostly since I was unsure of whether the Beca of this universe would be able to compete with the Bellas, this is what was posted on their eligibility requirements:_

**Eligibility**

Groups must consist of permanent, full-time, full-fledged participants who are full-time students enrolled at your school or university. Exceptions will be made on a case-by-case basis and will take into account the academic enrollment status of the member in question as well as the individual school's policy for participation in registered student organizations. Please contact headquarters with membership questions.

_So, by those rules, I would imagine that Beca would be able to compete with the Bellas…but I would also imagine Beca would probably be an exception considering the nature of her career. If anyone knows more on this matter – or if my assumption is just completely off base – let me know, I definitely wouldn't want the fic to be inaccurate. =P_

_Let me know what you think here or on Twitter and Tumblr. Much thanks to the other half of the team, CJ (CJersey82), for the beta-work. The song used at the beginning of this chapter is "Let Go" by Tinie Tempah  
_

_Until next time!  
_

_*ISP  
_


	2. Chapter 2

_Wow! The response to this fic has been absolutely amazing! It's definitely fueled the fire to get the next chapter out. Lol, I wouldn't get used to this sort of quickness in updating though. I'm a notoriously meticulous writer who tends to take way too long in writing chapters. Thank you so much to everyone who read, reviewed, liked, reblogged, favorited…you guys are awesome!_

_This chapter has a whole lot of flirty banter, and a little bit of spice behind it. I hope you guys don't hate me for a little scandalous nugget I threw in there…it's harmless, really. Just remember, it all plays into the bigger picture in the end._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

CHAPTER 2

_These reeling emotions they just keep me alive  
They keep me in tune  
Oh, look what I'm holding here in my fire  
This is for you_

It may be a product of her formative years, but Beca had always hid behind a smirk and cutting sarcasm. It wasn't often she found herself in a situation that she couldn't diffuse with a raised eyebrow, a quirk of her lips, and an acerbic remark.

That wasn't to say that Beca was unfeeling. Quite the contrary. Beca felt quite violently, maybe too much so. The difference came in how she controlled feelings that ran rampant beneath the surface. What came off as detached apathy was simple Beca wrestling surging emotions into a vice grip. No one would ever know how much of a struggle she underwent to make sure she kept her façade of indifference. And that was the way she preferred it.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Morning dawned on the second day of Beca's college career, and she greeted it with the enthusiasm of someone staring down a firing squad. Luckily, the first full day of classes wasn't until the next day, which gave her plenty of time to prepare for this new, slightly unsettling world she currently found herself in.

First order of business: Find a decent coffee shop not mass-produced into an international conglomerate.

Shrugging on clothes, her trusty boots at her feet, slinging her messenger bag over her shoulder, Beca ventured through Barden towards the downtown area nearly adjacent to the campus. As she walked along the path, she had to admit, Barden University and its surrounding area was a very pleasant place. Trees and greenery lined the sidewalks and walkways, complemented by the quaint little shop buildings. Beca passed by a Starbucks, noting the record store a couple doors down before she turned the corner and a small shop caught her eye.

Approaching the charming, non-descript building right next to – of all things – a billiard supply store, Beca glanced in to find big, cushy chairs lining the walls, attractive artwork complemented the décor, adding to the chill, comfortable atmosphere. "Lucy's" was the name painted into the window. It looked promising, so she rotated away from the window to enter the shop, only to collide with someone approaching from behind.

"Oh, I'm sorry!"

"No worries." Beca smirked as she met vivid, baby blue eyes that seemed to be following her everywhere. "It figures I would run into you of all people."

"You're much more confident with your clothes on," Chloe teased as she steadied herself.

"I think everyone is," Beca returned with a shrug. She cocked a head at the coffee shop. "This place any good?"

Chloe nodded enthusiastically. "The best. Not many people know about it because it's tucked away and there's a Starbucks around the corner, but Lucy's is so much better. And definitely not as expensive."

Beca inclined her head. "Works for me." She tugged on the handle, holding open the door for the redhead. "Would you like to join me?"

Chloe beamed, nodding as she sidled into the shop. "I'd be happy to."

Beca perused the menu, quickly zeroing in on a drink resembling her preferences and rattled off her order to the attentive teenager manning the counter. He nodded, jotting it down on the cardboard cup. Beca hitched a thumb to Chloe. "And whatever she wants."

Chloe smiled her thanks, relaying her order to the barista. As they waited for their drinks, she surveyed the petite brunette.

"I'll pay you back."

Beca chuckled. "It's only a couple of dollars. You're not forcing me into bankruptcy."

Chloe cocked an eyebrow as she accepted the tall coffee cup, sliding it into a cardboard sleeve. "You know, most college freshmen don't have the expendable cash to be so chivalrous."

"Well, if it makes you feel better, I will hold you to your debt." Beca promised. A sly expression crossed her features. "Though, I suspect this is a cunning ploy to see me again."

Chloe laughed, a melodic, tinkling sound that reminded Beca of wind chimes. "Alright," she confessed. "You caught me. This was easier than barging into your shower again."

Beca smirked and winked. "I wouldn't mind that."

Chloe ducked her head, fighting a blush. She was a naturally flirty person, but Beca seemed to bring a whole other element to their back-and-forth exchanges.

"Still, thanks."

Beca shrugged. "It's no big deal. Chalk the anomaly up to the fact I'm not your typical college freshman."

"I'm beginning to see that." Chloe grinned, shooting a look to her companion. "Care to explain?"

Beca nodded, following the redhead to a pair of cushy armchairs tucked away in the corner of the shop. "Well, for one thing, I'm probably around your age, if not older."

Chloe frowned. "No way! You look like you're barely legal! How old are you?"

Beca shook her head with a laugh. "I'm twenty-three," she answered. "Twenty-four in November."

"Why did you start so late?"

Beca shrugged. "I've been working."

Chloe took a sip of her latte. "Trying to save money for tuition?"

Beca smiled. "Something like that, yeah."

She jumped as she felt a pair of hands on her shoulders and glanced up to find Jesse smiling down at her. "What's up, Bee Sting? Isn't this way too early for you to be up and at 'em?"

Beca laughed, craning her head back, bumping her knuckles with the younger man. "I could ask you the same thing, J. What are _you_ doing up so early?"

Jesse rolled his eyes. "I'm interning at the local radio station and was lucky enough to bag the morning shift." He pointed to himself. "And guess who gets to do the coffee run." He nodded his head to Beca's companion in greeting. "Hey, Chloe."

Chloe offered out a smile to the sophomore. "Jesse."

"I'm still waiting on that call, Bee," he reminded her, heading to the barista.

"Don't sound so desperate, dude," Beca chastised him with a grin.

"Just desperate for your sparkling company," he corrected, accepting the tray of coffee cups and the large bag of pastries from the barista.

Beca chuckled as he navigated his way through the masses, stumbling slightly and nearly upending his bounty. "You alright, J?"

"Oh, yeah, no worries, I'm good." Jesse frowned down at his shoes. "This floor is just uneven."

With one last smile and as much of a jaunty wave as he could muster juggling the coffee tray and pastry bag, Jesse backed his way out of the coffee shop.

Chloe watched the interplay between the two with amusement. She gestured to where Jesse's back had disappeared through the shop doors. "How do you know Jesse?"

"He was my best friend as a kid," Beca answered with a fond smile. "We grew up together in Oregon before my parents split, and my mom and I moved to Brooklyn." Beca cocked her head. "How do you know him?"

"He's part of the Treblemakers," Chloe explained. "One of our rival groups here at Barden. By and large, they're all huge dicks, but Jesse's a good guy."

Beca nodded her agreement. "He was a sweetheart even when we were kids and it wasn't cool to have a girl as a best friend."

Chloe took the in to learn a bit more about the mysterious woman across from her. "So you're from Oregon?"

Beca nodded. "Portland born. After my parents split, my mom and I moved to Brooklyn to be by my aunt, uncle, and the rest of the family on her side."

"What about you?"

"I'm from Miami," Chloe answered. "We moved to Atlanta my sophomore year of high school when my dad's company promoted him and transferred him."

"Nice." Beca grinned. "Miami is awesome."

"You've been?"

Beca nodded, her eyes twinkling with the memories. The club scene was ridiculous in south Florida, and she had received many invitations – and ungodly amounts of money – to spin at some of the hottest, most exclusive clubs and parties. Needless to say, some of her trips down to Miami had resulted in some of the best nights she had to piece together the morning after. "A couple of times."

A buzzing interrupted their conversation, and Beca glanced down at her phone. As she recognized the number, she groaned her annoyance.

"Oh, geeze, hang on, I have to take this." At Chloe's nod, Beca swiped her thumb across the screen, lifting the phone to her ear. "Beca Mitchell."

"Hey…Yeah, just about…I just finished layering everything…Yup. Just the effects we were talking about and it's good…" Beca's brow furrowed, and her mouth turned down in a displeased frown. "He wants it now? But I still…Okay."

Beca cursed under her breath, glancing over at the large clock on the wall behind the bar. "Are you sure he doesn't want to wait until I added the effects? He wants both? Okay, I'll see what I can do." Beca rolled her eyes at the voice on the other end. "Yeah, yeah, I'll see you in a bit."

Ending the call, Beca stood, her expression apologetic. "I'm sorry. I have to go."

"It's alright," Chloe assured her. "That sounded important." She gestured to her empty cup. "Thanks for the coffee."

Beca grinned. "It was my pleasure."

Chloe slung her purse over her shoulder, her wide blue eyes gazing imploringly at Beca. "I'll see you at auditions later?"

Beca chuckled. "I was wondering when the conversation would come to that." She nodded, adjusting her messenger bag. "I'll be there. I said I would."

Chloe shot her a coy look. "How do I know you weren't just saying that to get me out of your shower?"

Beca's gaze grew sly and predatory, stealing Chloe's breath from her throat. "Because you were naked and you're hot. I wouldn't have minded a longer look." She sobered and shrugged, answering Chloe's original question. "Let's just say me sticking to my word is what got me here in the first place."

Satisfied with the expression flitting across Chloe's face, Beca backed away, a supremely triumphant air to her swagger. "I'll see you."

Chloe fought her blush back down, returning the wave. "Bye."

She waited for Beca to completely disappear from view before slumping back down onto the chair. Turning her eyes heavenward, she chuckled to herself. She had a feeling one Beca Mitchell was going to be the death of her…or at least the driving factor behind the loss of her sanity.

xxx-xxx-xxx

_I've got my ticket for long way 'round  
Two bottles of whiskey for the way  
And I sure would like some sweet company  
and I'm leaving tomorrow, whattya say?_

_When I'm gone, when I'm gone_  
_You're gonna miss me when I'm gone_  
_You're gonna miss me by my hair_  
_You're gonna miss me everywhere_  
_And I know you're gonna miss me when I'm gone_

_I've got my ticket for the long way 'round_  
_The one with the prettiest view_  
_It's got mountains, it's got rivers_  
_It's got sights to give you shivers_  
_But it sure would be prettier with you_

_When I'm gone, when I'm gone_  
_You're gonna miss me when I'm gone_  
_You're gonna miss me by my hair_  
_You're gonna miss me everywhere_  
_You're gonna miss me when I'm gone_

Later in the afternoon, Chloe revisited that assertion. They had seen quite a few singers stride across the stage, but although there had been a few good voices, no one had been spectacular. No one had really stood out.

Until Beca had slunk in at the end.

Chloe wasn't quite sure if her earlier revelation of one Beca Mitchell being the death of her was to her chagrin or to her delight, but it certainly wasn't too far from the truth. Beca had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, grossly unprepared and still looking like she wanted to turn tail and bail. Chloe had to admit the moment the words, "I didn't know I had to prepare that song," had left Beca's lips, she didn't have to see the tightening in Aubrey's mouth to know the brunette hadn't started on the right foot. As excited as Chloe was to see the smaller brunette, she knew that the blonde to her left didn't share her excitement, and in Aubrey's mind, even _considering_ Beca for a spot would be an uphill battle. Much to her everlasting delight, Beca had delivered in a way that had Chloe inwardly bouncing in her seat. Sitting cross-legged on the stage, tapping out a beat with an empty cup and her hands, Beca had succinctly and meticulously blown them all away.

There was something simple and uncomplicated about Beca's performance as a whole. She simply sang the song, no runs, no riffs, no belted notes, or other vocal embellishments, just the raw power and melody of her gorgeous voice. But at the same time, its nuances were wonderfully intricate in the way her hands deftly manipulated the plain yellow cup, in the subtle intonations of her voice. It was hard to tear ones eyes from the stage. _That_ was what the Bellas needed, Chloe decided. That magnetic presence, that uniquely nuanced performance quality. Simply put, Beca _had_ to join them.

Chloe glanced sideways to Aubrey as the blonde observed the brunette. She saw the pursing of Aubrey's lips, the way her brows drew together, and Chloe fought a smile. It seemed her co-captain was trying very hard to staunch how impressed she was.

Aubrey stood, gazing at their candidates with a smile. "Thank you very much, everyone for your time. We have your contact information. You'll be hearing from us shortly."

Chloe watched as Beca hefted herself from the stage, trumping toward the exit. She turned to Aubrey. "I'll be back."

Aubrey nodded absently, already shuffling through her notes. "Hurry, we have a lot to talk about."

Chloe stuck her head out, trying to see if Beca was still around. Luckily, she spotted Beca on her phone, pacing the auditorium lobby. She looked slightly annoyed again with whomever was on the other end of the call.

Beca held up her finger, asking for a moment. She conversed shortly with the other person before ending the call and sliding the phone in her pocket.

"Sorry about that."

Chloe shook her head. "No problem. I just wanted to say thanks for showing up. You were great."

Beca shrugged, running a hand through her hair as the toe of her boot scuffed the tile. "No big deal, I told you I would."

Chloe hid a smile, watching the smaller woman. For someone who had such a big, dominant presence, Beca sure was able to shrink into herself. It was adorable. "Well, I'm glad you did. I think you're going to be a great addition to the Bellas."

Beca smirked. "That's with the assumption I made it in."

Chloe's eyes narrowed. "You know you were the best one out there."

Beca's smirk widened. "A little validation never hurts, you know." She sobered. "Look, I appreciate that you want me in your group, but I doubt I would be able to perform with you."

"Why?"

Beca rubbed the back of her neck. "I'm employed with a pretty big record label. I would imagine there's some sort of eligibility requirement against letting professionals compete."

"Are you a full-time student here?" Chloe cut her off.

Beca's head tilted adorably to the left. "Yes…"

Chloe smiled brightly. "Then you're good! If you're a full-time, registered student, that's the only eligibility requirement ICCA has."

Beca eyed her wryly. "I'm fairly certain I'll be an exception."

Again, Chloe waved a hand. "So we'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

Beca observed Chloe's wide-eyed, earnest stare with a wry smile. "You really want me to join, don't you?"

Chloe blushed, knowing she probably seemed a bit too over-eager. Taking a deep breath, she twiddled with the silver ring encircling her thumb. "There's just something different about you, something that no one else in the Bellas has. You just look so…comfortable on that stage." Chloe shrugged. "I don't know, like you were born there or something. I couldn't take my eyes off you," she admitted.

Beca smirked, trying to put some levity into the conversation. "You sure it wasn't my ravishing good-looks?"

Chloe bit her lip, refusing to play into Beca's obvious ploy. "You sure it's not _despite_ your looks?"

"Ouch." Beca clutched her heart. "That cuts me deep."

Chloe merely grinned, her effervescent personality simply radiating from the simple gesture.

Beca shook her head. "I don't know if this is such a good idea." She nodded towards the auditorium where Aubrey was no doubt still poring over their prospects. "Your friend really doesn't like me."

"Look, I know Aubrey can be a little…" Chloe struggled for a diplomatic description, "caustic…but it's because she's is so devoted to the Bellas. This group means so much to her."

Beca shrugged. "I can understand that." She smirked. "Music does that to people…even the most uptight, stringent personalities, I guess."

Chloe returned the shrug, knowing the description wasn't incorrect…if not a little disparaging. "Everyone needs an escape, right?" Again, her fingers twisted with the silver ring around her thumb. "Some people use alcohol, drugs, sex…" She glanced up at Beca shyly, the luminous baby blue a stark contrast to the dark lashes.

"I use music."

Beca grinned approvingly. "My kind of girl."

"So, please?" Chloe reached out, clasping Beca's arm gently. "At least consider it?"

Beca surveyed the other woman for a long moment. Warmth radiated from their point of contact. She nodded slowly. "I'll consider it."

Chloe didn't answer, she merely smiled. Reflexively, Beca returned the gesture, drawn in by the way the easy smile made Chloe's already bright, vivid eyes twinkle happily. She was simply infectious. Beca's eyes met Chloe's, two different shades of blue connecting two very different people together.

The moment shattered as Aubrey stuck her head outside. "Chloe! There you are. Come on, we have to talk."

Chloe glanced over her shoulder to Aubrey, nodding her acknowledgment. "I'll be right there." She turned back to Beca, offering out a shy smile. "I'll see you."

"Count on it," Beca promised.

Chloe smiled, rotating away and heading back to the auditorium. As she reached the door, she paused, sending one more smile to the brunette before disappearing into the depths.

Beca stood there for a moment, absorbing everything before she finally willed her feet to move.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Beca was in a pensive mood as she made her way back to her apartment, trying to understand the exchange that had just occurred between her and Chloe. She had felt the connection; it was certainly there and present, but it wasn't something she was familiar with. She felt strangely off-kilter, struggling to find a hand-hold amidst the range of emotions that made up their connection as though she wasn't quite sure of the correct emotional response. Looking down to her phone, she tapped Jules' number. After all, no one better to put everything in perspective. The phone rang once before Jules picked up.

"Hey, bitch! What's up?"

"Nothing," Beca sighed. "Just needed to hear a friendly voice."

"Oh, you definitely have the wrong number then," Jules teased. "I must not be properly projecting my hostility."

"Never change, Jules," Beca cajoled. "Never change."

"Damn right," Jules declared. "I'm freakin' awesome. But seriously, Beca, I can't believe you're edu-ma-cating yourself. You're supposed to stay stupid so I can continue pilfering from your cut of the money. You get smart, you might catch onto my devious ways."

Beca laughed, shaking her head. "I'm sorry I foiled your devious plot."

"So what's up?"

"I auditioned for that a cappella group," Beca muttered, playing with an errant strand of her hair.

"You caved to the hot girl flashing her lady bits at you…" Jules sighed theatrically. "Dude, I'm so disappointed."

"Shut up!" Beca laughed, kicking her legs against the cushion.

"Okay, so you're being all Jane College," Jules commented. "Nothing bad about that. So what's on your mind? You wouldn't have called if it was just to update me on a simple audition."

"I don't know," Beca admitted. "Hot Shower Girl is messing with my head."

"She must've had an amazing rack," Jules mused. "A good set of tits has always been your weakness."

Beca grunted. "But it's beyond her looks. I mean, don't get me wrong, she's hot…but it's her personality, you know? Like the way she is. She's…electric."

"Huh." Jules sounded pensive. "So do what you always do," she advised. "Sort it out through music."

xxx-xxx-xxx

Beca entered the lobby of the recording studio located in the heart of Atlanta's downtown. The staff had obviously been given notice that she would be stopping by as one of the employees met her at the door and ushered her to the booth she reserved. Beca eased herself down into the chair and cast a contented glance at the equipment surrounding her. To anyone else, it was just a mishmash of dials, levers, and random monitors, but to Beca, it was her kingdom. Everyone had _that place_; the place where one felt the most at home; the place where nothing bad could happen. For Beca, _that place_ was the studio.

Maybe it was trite, but mixing music wasn't just a livelihood. It was a way to handle her emotions. She could communicate them through her tracks. She could be angry and aggressive, she could be melancholy she could be peppy and upbeat. It was just a matter of how she manipulated the sounds at her disposal.

It started with just simple mixing, nothing too sophisticated, taking everyone else's songs and making them work with each other, melding them together to something she could play in a club. But as she immersed herself in the bevy of sounds available at her fingertips with a mantra echoing her mother's rhetoric of "finding the music" continually resonating in her mind, Beca found that she could create something completely her own. Her first hit was something she had thrown together with the influence of the grasshopper's song as her template. She wanted to make one song completely her own, no samples, nothing from someone else. Just her, and it had propelled her into something she hadn't anticipated.

Beca closed her eyes, trying to communicate her emotions into the track. She started with the rhythm. She delved into her feelings, pulling out that first meeting between her and Chloe. Dug deep into her soul to recall how those eyes drew her in, how the immediate attraction hit her, how the redhead's quirky mannerisms immediately endeared her to Beca. Beca's eyes squinted tight, and she did the one thing that never failed her in this business.

She listened.

_Heart pounding._

_ Brisk rhythm._

_ Thump._

_ Thump._

_ Thump._

_ Ears roaring._

_ Echoing._

_ Maybe more of that effect…_

_ Bright eyes._

_ So vivid._

_ So blue._

_ How does that sound?_

_ Accent it all._

_ Big kick_

_ Big bass._

_ BOOM._

She wasn't sure how long she had been there, lost in the world of rhythms, tempos, bass-lines, and effects, but as she finally straightened from being hunched over, Beca leaned back, satisfied with the template. She had the foundation ready: a series of brisk, short notes accented by a booming kick. The next would be to layer a bass-line to match her rhythm, then the finishing touches. She wondered what kind of lyrics would fit this track…Hm, she might have to call Jules to see if anyone was lined up.

The insistent ring of her phone broke her from her work, and she groped for the device, raising it to her ear without a glance at the ID on the screen, answering on reflex.

"Beca Mitchell."

"Hey, Beca. Where are you?"

"Damon?" Beca frowned, looking down at her phone. "I'm at the studio working. You knew that."

Damon chuckled. "Well, _I_ knew that," he assured her. "But the rather emphatic redhead beside me with the intention of kidnapping you for some initiation…" Beca heard some shuffling as Damon covered the phone, "who is now yelling at me because I just…" more muffled conversation followed, "And I quote, 'Totally ruined the element of surprise, not to mention the sacred tradition dating back to inception!' _doesn't_ know that." Damon snorted his amusement. "My bad…"

"Put her on the phone."

"Beca?"

"Chloe," she returned playfully. "Why are you outside of my apartment?"

"Because I need to kidnap you for a super-secret initiation," Chloe deadpanned. "Where are you?"

Beca laughed. "I'm working in the city. I had Damon drop me off."

"Huh," Chloe hummed. "That certainly throws a wrench into things. Who is Damon, anyway?"

"My driver."

"Huh. That's convenient." There was more muffled conversation before Chloe came back on the line. "Well, stay there. Damon and I are coming to get you. You can't miss the initiation."

"What about everyone else?"

"You were the last one." Chloe chuckled. "I figured you would be the hardest to track down. I didn't know me coming to get you would constitute a drive into the city."

"Alright, I'll be waiting outside."

"We'll be there in a bit."

Beca saved her work, making a note of what else she needed to do with the track, packed everything into her bag and exited the studio, just in time to meet the massive black Range Rover as it pulled up to the curb. The valet rushed to open the door for her, and she slid in, instantly meeting the baby blue eyes staring imploringly in her direction from across the car.

"Sorry I messed up your big initiation ritual," Beca apologized. "You could have given me a heads up you were coming."

"That would have completely missed the point," Chloe teased. She shrugged. "It's okay. You saved yourself from having a bag thrown over your head and manhandled into a car." Chloe cast a thoughtful glance at the plush interior. "Besides, this is much nicer than my hand-me-down BMW…" Chloe's nose wrinkled. "I'm sorry, that sounded spoiled and pretentious."

Beca shook her head with a laugh. "No, it didn't," she assured the redhead. Leaning back, she gestured to Damon in the front seat. "I let Damon pick the car he wanted to drive when I hired him. I couldn't say no when his eyes lit up at this beast."

"I can't believe you have your own driver."

Beca scratched the back of her ear. "Part of the employment perk?" she offered ambiguously.

Chloe's eyes narrowed at her as her mouth twisted skeptically. "Some employment," she remarked. "You're not, like, in the mob, are you?"

Beca barked out a laugh. "Like some mob enforcer?" She shook her head with a smirk. "No, not quite."

Chloe looked at her dubiously as she scoffed. "Well, duh. You're _way_ too tiny for that."

"Hey!"

xxx-xxx-xxx

Beca had never been a part of any sort of group, so the idea of actually having an initiation night was pretty radical. So when she found herself ushered from the car, a bag thrown over her head – "We have to keep some level of mystique," Chloe had argued – she wasn't sure she expected to find herself on a stage surrounded with the other new Bellas, Chloe and Aubrey at the head of a candlelit table.

They seemed like a pretty ragtag group, Beca observed as Aubrey droned on and on about the sanctity of the Bella tradition. Among the new girls were Cynthia Rose, Fat Amy, Jessica, Denise, Stacie – who, interestingly enough, sent her a lascivious wink – and Lilly. Definitely not the type of people Beca would have thought to make up an a cappella group.

A hauntingly serious albeit ridiculously awkward oath later, and Beca found herself in the middle of an outdoor auditorium, standing amidst the stadium seats, watching drunken, a cappella revelry.

"Beca!"

Her eyes crinkled at the corners as she grinned, quite amused with the sight of a tipsy Jesse Evans. "Oh, wow."

"Bee Sting!" Jesse mimicked the buzzing of a bee, climbing over the seats. "My long, lost, lady love!" He stumbled to a stop in front of her, a goofy grin on his face. "Do my eyes deceive me? Are you a Barden Bella?"

Beca shook her head, unable to help the amusement from spreading across her face.

"You're one of those a cappella girls, I'm one of those a cappella boys, and I'm gonna contribute to your aca-lady babies to continue on the aca-awesomeness." Jesse nodded his head resolutely. "It's inevitable." He paused, shoulders rising to his ears as his neck craned backward in consideration. "Uh…"

Beca smirked. "Sounded better in your head?"

"Yup."

"You're really drunk right now," Beca remarked with a fond grin. "I don't think you'll remember this in the morning, J."

"No," Jesse disagreed. "I'm not drunk, you're just blurry."

"You sure you're okay?"

"Yup."

"You almost fell over." As Jesse continued to argue for his sobriety, Beca prodded at him with a grin. "Can you pass a sobriety test right now?" She pushed at his chest. "Can you stand up straight?"

"Yup. See how I come right back?" Jesse rocked back on his heels before righting himself. "Aaaand, I come right back."

Beca laughed, shaking her head. It was those moments of silliness that she remembered most fondly of her time as Jesse's next-door neighbor.

Jesse grinned. "Can I get you a drink?"

Beca nodded, also grinning at the warm familiarity between them, even with the absence of fifteen years between them. "Sounds great."

"I'm gonna get you a drink," he mumbled, shuffling determinedly towards his destination.

"Go for it," Beca encouraged.

Jesse nodded resolutely. "You need to get on this level…"

Beca watched fondly as he wobbled down the stairs, wholly invested in fulfilling this one request. She marveled at how time hadn't changed their relationship, bits and pieces of the awkward, nerdy kid she had known peeking through amidst the matured physical body that had stood in front of her. Lost in her musings, Beca jumped as a pair of arms slid around her shoulders, and she turned to find a shock of red hair in her line of vision.

She fought the urge to stiffen, shooting a smile over her shoulder. "Hey, Chloe."

"Beca!" Chloe shifted herself closer to the brunette, keeping her arms around the smaller figure, her hands locked around the other woman's neck.

"You were…_amazing_ in your audition."

Beca shrugged as Chloe fit their bodies together with no regard for personal space, forcing Beca to anchor herself to the redhead with an arm around Chloe's waist. She slid her free hand in her pocket.

"Just something I picked up from a video online. I thought it was cool. Never knew it would come in handy."

Chloe shifted to stand in front of Beca, dropping down to the step below. She kept them connected, moving her grip to Beca's hands, entwining their fingers.

"I think we're gonna be fast friends."

"Well, you've already seen me naked, so…" Beca punctuated her statement with a wink, prompting a breathy giggle from her companion.

"There's something special about you," Chloe declared softly. Beca wasn't sure if the words were influenced by the liquor loosening Chloe's lips, but the redhead's radiant blue eyes pierced into her own, a startling clarity within them despite the alcohol lingering on her tongue. "Something I think is going to be the start of something aca-awesome."

"Aca-awesome, huh?"

Chloe nodded, completely serious. "There's something about your voice, something about the way you are on stage. It's like you're my musical soulmate." Chloe brought up their joined fingers, placing Beca's hand over her breast. "It touches me here."

"Your heart is a little higher," Beca mumbled softly, her eyes wide and her reflexes battling her impulse to flex her fingers and grope the flesh beneath her palm.

Chloe shrugged. "Close enough." She abruptly stepped back from Beca's personal space, a wide, bright smile lighting up her face.

"I'm gonna get another drink." Chloe turned away from her, raising her arms over her head, shaking her hips enticingly. "This ginger needs her jiggle juice."

Beca let out the breath she had been holding, forcing a weak smile onto her face, ignoring the burn in her right palm from Chloe's touch. "Make good choices!"

Beca shook her head incredulously as Chloe acknowledged her with a wave, flouncing off with a swagger to her hips. Huffing out a snort, the brunette sat down on the stone steps of the amphitheatre, taking in the chaos for a moment with a bemused smirk. Jesse appeared for the barest of seconds, pushing a cup into her hand before he was called away by Bumper and Unicycle.

It seemed she had turned into some people magnet as she barely had time to process his appearance and subsequent disappearance when Stacie bounced over, easing down beside her. "Hi!"

Beca grinned, taking a sip of her drink. "Hey, Stacie, right?"

Stacie nodded. "That's me."

Both girls glanced over as a Treble wobbled to the stage, holding a bottle of Patron and a bag of limes in his hand. "Body shots!"

Stacie brightened, grabbing Beca's hand. "Let's go!"

Beca chuckled, allowing herself to be tugged to the stage.

"Mind if we join you?" Stacie ventured coyly.

"Of course not." A Treble waggled his eyebrows, stepping closer. "You can even be the first."

Stacie giggled, shoving the Treble away. "Down boy." She winked at Beca, tugging her forward. "You got this?"

Beca smirked, guiding Stacie into a nearby folding chair to lessen their height difference. She swung a leg over the busty brunette, straddling her hips with a wink of her own, armed with a shot glass filled with tequila, salt, and a lime slice. She brushed Stacie's hair away from her neck, fitting the shot glass into the valley of generous cleavage. Sliding the lime against the skin of Stacie's collarbone, Beca sprinkled salt onto the pale expanse, offering the lime to the other girl who clasped it obligingly between her lips.

The Treble cocked an eyebrow. "You sure you can handle this?"

Beca returned the gesture. "Take notes, puppy."

Ducking her head down, she let her tongue meander up the strip of salt, her lips brushing Stacie's collarbone sensually. She could already tell the effect her ministrations were having on the passionate brunette as Stacie's hands grasped onto her thighs, fingers clenching into the fabric of her jeans. Beca fit her lips around the shot glass nestled in Stacie's cleavage, expertly tossing the liquor back with a flick of her head. Setting the shot glass aside, she leaned down, capturing the lime slice between her lips, her mouth brushing against Stacie's with each leisurely pull. Plopping the dry fruit into the empty glass, she stood with another smirk to her willing companion and turned to their audience.

"Any questions?"

The Treble merely shook his head, eyes wide.

Beca smirked again, turning to head back across the amphitheatre when Stacie snagged her arm, turning her back to the stage.

"Oh no, short stuff." Stacie shoved her back into the chair. "Your turn now."

Beca chuckled, shaking her head, allowing herself to be mounted. Call them whatever you wanted, but the a capella people knew how to party. In her alcohol-addled mind, the little voice of reason nagged that this was probably not the best idea in the world, but when a busty brunette with mile-long legs willingly straddled her, sensibility took a backseat to basic biological imperatives. She had _needs_.

So sue her…

xxx-xxx-xxx

Mornings had never been on top of Beca's preferred times of the day. In her humble opinion, nights were so much more fun. But if mornings were not agreeable to the famous DJ, mornings-after were even worse. Especially following those nights where the imbibing of alcohol constituted much of the fun. As the morning after initiation dawned, the sunlight filtered through the blinds and cast its radiance over the lump burrowed under the covers. Beca groaned, turning her face more fully into her pillow. Whining her protest, Beca flopped onto her back, scrubbing a palm over her face. It was then she noticed she was not alone in her bed.

"Oh, shit…"

"Morning," her bedmate hummed, stretching languidly, unconcerned with her modesty.

Beca swallowed hard at the familiar voice, clutching the sheet to her chest. "Stacie…" She lifted the cover, noting her naked form. "We had sex, didn't we?"

"Yup." Stacie propped herself on an elbow. "It was hot."

"What I remember, yes, I would have to agree." Beca groaned, running a hand through her hair. "The last thing I remember is you tugging me away to do body shots with tequila." She snorted to herself. "I am going to take comfort in the fact that I know you."

"And at least we didn't break the Bella code," Stacie offered.

"More like at least we didn't break my bed," Beca grumbled as she unfolded herself from her sleeping position, feeling her body object with the exertion. "I think all your strength is centered at your pelvis."

"Strong core," Stacie nodded knowingly. "Totally comes in handy for this sort of thing."

Beca eyed the woman beside her, trying to gauge her attitude. "This isn't going to be weird, is it?"

Stacie laughed. "Beca, you're hot and all, but it's no big deal," Stacie assured her. "I don't make it a habit to sleep with someone more than once…even if the sex was awesome."

"Thanks…I guess."

"Sure." Stacie grinned. "I mean, I'm not asking for, like, a lifetime commitment here. I mean, I dig you, and I'd totally ask for your autograph, but this wasn't anything serious."

Beca returned the smile. "I wish all one-night stands were as chill as you."

Stacie shrugged. "I have practice. Oh, but hey, you wouldn't mind signing the poster in my dorm, would you?"

Beca chuckled, shaking her head. "No problem. It's the least I can do."

"Awesome." Stacie's grin grew predatory as she scooted closer to her supine bed partner, clearly comfortable with their current situation. "Soooo…Since I'm probably never gonna sleep with you again, how about we make the most of this one-night stand?"

Beca smirked as a long, lean body straddled her snugly. "Sounds good to me…"

xxx-xxx-xxx

If Beca had any reservations about joining the a cappella group, they all came to a head at the first Bellas rehearsal. For some reason, Aubrey thought it fitting to have practice at a ridiculously early hour in order to not conflict with anyone's classes. However, from the first moment they were brought together, it was a clusterfuck of choreography, cardio, and vocal exercises, beginning with the expulsion of two girls for daring to sleep with Trebles – Beca exchanged a look with Stacie during that debacle.

Beca found herself holding her tongue throughout many times during the rehearsal, but as she looked over the song choices for their future performances, she couldn't help but speak up.

"There's nothing from this century on here," she had commented, shuffling through papers. That little nugget received quite the impressive glare from the Bella leader…which was then followed by a long lecture about preserving the noble traditions of Barden Bella a cappella. Beca learned her lesson with that…if only not to goad Aubrey into rambling, lengthy lectures. Not that she listened. She might have zoned out three words in.

Whoops.

As they broke with a disjointed mess of a cheer, Aubrey called her back, commenting on how she would have to take her "ear monstrosities" out for the full SBT mixer. Beca surveyed the taller blonde, unable to stop herself from responding.

"You don't like me too much, do you?"

"I don't like your attitude," Aubrey stated matter-of-factly. "And it's clear you have a toner for Jesse Evans."

Beca frowned, unfamiliar with the term. "A 'toner'? Like what you put in a computer printer?"

"A musical boner," Aubrey reiterated. "It was very clear during initiation night."

Beca barked out a laugh. "Please tell me you're not talking about that two-minute exchange."

"I don't care how long of an exchange it was," Aubrey hissed. "It was obvious what was going on there."

Beca crossed her arms, rolling her eyes. "Aubrey, I've known him since I was a kid. We were best friends for years, way before Barden, and definitely way before this Trebles/Bellas thing."

"Best friends or not, we have a code in place, and I won't hesitate to excise you from this group if you violate it."

"I can see that," Beca shook her head wryly. "I guarantee that I will never violate that part of your antiquated code."

"Please." Aubrey glared. "I can practically see your toner through your jeans."

"Are you checking me out, Aubrey?" Beca smirked. "Didn't know you swung my way." She sighed, rolling her eyes skyward again as the blonde bristled. "Look, you have absolutely nothing to worry about unless the Treblemakers start inducting females into their group. I don't do guys…literally and figuratively."

Beca took immense pleasure in the fact her singular statement had rendered the normally verbose leader of the Bellas completely and utterly speechless. "You're gay?"

"And really, really happy," Beca quipped.

The dumbstruck look would forever bring Beca joy as Aubrey truly could not find words to respond. "Oh…"

"And the 'toner' you're talking about? Might be the strap on." Beca slowly backed away, the smirk clear on her features, her posture practically radiating triumph. "I don't blame you for looking. It's pretty impressive."

Rotating, Beca sauntered away, catching Chloe's eye. A sly smile curled her lips as she winked at the redhead, delighting in the flush that spread across the Chloe's cheeks. Beca smirked and grabbed her stuff, heading towards the exit. As she stepped into the lobby, she felt a hand at her arm, and turned to find Cynthia Rose standing beside her, an expectant look on her face.

"Hey."

Cynthia nodded her own greeting. "I didn't want to make a big deal about it before," Cynthia extended her the cover to her first album out and a silver Sharpie pen. "But could I have your autograph?"

Beca laughed, a corner of her mouth tilting upward. "Why am I not surprised you and Stacie are the only ones aware of who I am?"

"Because you and I bat for the same team," Cynthia answered with a sardonic grin. "I'm like a top contributor on AfterEllen." She cocked her head. "And Stacie's mentioned multiple times that she thinks you're hot."

Beca shook her head with a chuckle, scrawling her name on the album cover.

"We're not the only ones," Cynthia explained. "Amy knows, too. I _think_ Lilly does, but she kinda just nodded when I asked her." Cynthia shrugged. "Who knows?"

Beca nodded. "I did notice she isn't the most communicative person."

"Anyway, I just wanted to say it'll be cool singing with you." Cynthia Rose grinned suddenly. "And, you know, if you're lookin' to cruise…"

Beca grinned. "You got it."

xxx-xxx-xxx

Despite the pleasant exchange with Cynthia Rose, between the mild hangover, a disastrous practice, and Aubrey berating her, a sense of fatigue followed Beca from practice to her first class of the day. As she took a seat in the middle of the large auditorium housing her Intro to Philosophy course, Beca was reminded of her biggest reservation concerning college: schoolwork. Luckily, she actually had the foresight to take a few AP classes in high school, which lessened her load of general education requirements, and therefore her sanity.

Dr. Roberta Graham was her professor for the course, a tall, wiley woman with a permanent mischievous expression adorning her features. She had an interesting presence about her, almost one that contradicted what Beca knew about professors. Dr. Graham sure didn't dress like her father did in his slacks and blazers. She was all flowing linen blouses and bright-colored pants. There was a stately air about her, her aura practically radiating with intelligence, but she approached class with the childlike enthusiasm.

Beca wasn't quite sure what to expect from this class, but what she definitely didn't expect was the steady stream of questions that began as soon as the clock reached the top of the hour.

Dr. Graham smiled reassuringly, a deceiving gesture as she pointed out a bespectacled boy in the front row. "You."

He physically shrank back. Dr. Graham chuckled. "Easy there, young one, I'm just going to ask you a question. Why did you pick this class?"

Her target shrugged. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "My advisor said I should."

Dr. Graham nodded. "Fair enough." She ascended the stairs bisecting the auditorium seating, stopping before a petite blonde. "Why do you think philosophy is important?"

The girl tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I don't know much about it, really. I figure that's what you're gonna tell me."

Again, Dr. Graham smiled. "Indeed." She looked to the tall, athletic boy beside the girl. "What do _you_ know about philosophy?"

He tapped his pen against his notebook. "A little bit. I know there are different ways of thinking that are based on some old Greek guys."

"Ah, very good." Dr. Graham slid her hands in her pockets. "And you are correct, good sir. Kind of amazing how ways of thinking have lasted from before known time until now, isn't it?"

The guy shrugged. "I think so."

"Why are you asking us so many questions?" Someone finally shouted from the back of the room, as Dr. Graham continued to traverse the room, asking question after question, taking up more and more of the class time everyone was expecting to be filled with a normal lecture.

Dr. Graham merely grinned, thrusting one finger into the air. "And that was the question I was looking for." Dr. Graham came down the steps and crossed over to the front of the room.

"In philosophy, you're given a basic line of thought, a concept. As a student of philosophy, it's your job to explore the different avenues that surround that thought and come up with the rationalization of why people think the way they do. To basically ask the question, 'Why?'"

Dr. Graham nudged her cat-eye spectacles higher on her nose and moved to the front of the podium, leaning against it. "Okay, so many of you emailed me asking about the term paper, and I answered that I would talk about it at the end of class today."

She nodded at the murmurs of assent that rolled through the room. "As I'm sure you all did, because you are meticulous and conscientious students, you have all read over the course syllabus and noticed that this course has a total of 300 points." Dr. Graham smirked as she crossed her arms. "However, they don't give doctorates to idiots, so I am going to assume that those of you who are currently sporting blank looks just haven't gotten to it, yet. It's the beginning of the year, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt."

Dr. Graham waited for the chuckles to die down before she continued. "This course is worth a total of 300 points and 150 of those points are centered around your term paper due at the end of the semester." Dr. Graham pushed off the podium and walked to the whiteboard, plucking a marker from the rail. "I deliberately left out specifics, so here is the subject of your paper…" Stretching up on her tiptoes, she wrote a single word in big, bold letters.

_WHY?_

Silence followed the revelation, and Dr. Graham grinned, clearly anticipating the mass confusion she had just caused.

"This is a philosophy class," Dr. Graham reminded them. "And what is philosophy?"

"Philosophy is the study of general and fundamental problems, such as those connected with reality, existence, knowledge, values, reason, mind, and language," someone shouted from the back.

"Okay, textbook answer, but it gives you a guideline." Dr. Graham slapped her hand beneath the word. "As I mentioned, this is the very essence of philosophy. Answering this question right here. Why?" She moved back to the front of the room, a smile playing at the edges of her mouth. "What I am asking you to do, ladies and gentlemen, is to answer me why."

"Why what?" Someone else called out.

Dr. Graham's smile widened even further. "That, dear one, is completely up to you. I'll post the complete assignment on the class page. Make sure you check it. That will be all for today."

Beca groaned, the back of her head thumping against the chair. And that – _right there_ – was why college and learning absolutely sucked…

xxx-xxx-xxx

Sitting on a bench in the courtyard of the main Arts and Humanities building, Beca pondered that question. One of the earliest memories she had involved the question "Why?" in a conversation with her mother. Beca leaned against the bench, thinking back to the conversation.

_**Little Beca followed the music through the house until she found her mother in the den. Her dad was at work, leaving her and her mom together for the day. Her sneakered feet padding softly against the wooden floor, she poked her head into the doorway. Her mother was tucked into an armchair in the corner, a blanket over her legs as she bobbed her head to the mellow beat of the vinyl record lazily rotating in the antique record player.**_

_** "Hi, Mommy."**_

_** "Hey, Bumblebee." Molly patted her thighs. "Come sit with me."**_

_** Beca scurried over, clambering up into her mother's lap. "What are you listening to?"**_

_** Molly smiled and wrapped her arms around her daughter, swaying with Beca to the beat. "This is a woman named Ella Fitzgerald and the song is called 'Dream a Little Dream of Me'." Molly started to hum along.**_

**Stars shining bright above you  
Night breezes seem to whisper, "I love you"  
Birds singing in the sycamore tree  
Dream a little dream of me**

_** "What kind of music is this?" Beca asked, her sneakered feet also wiggling to the sweet, tranquil melody. "I like it. It sounds pretty."**_

_** "This is called jazz music," Molly answered. "It's a really old kind of music that uses a lot of instruments."**_

_** Beca nodded sagely. "That's cool." She cocked her head to her mother. "Why do you like music so much?"**_

_** "Because music makes me feel things," Molly answered. She nodded to the record playing. "And a good song makes you feel a lot of different things. Just listen to this song. How does it make you feel?"**_

_** "Happy," Beca answered. "I really like this song. The lady's voice is pretty."**_

_** "That's good. Most songs are like that, but some makes you feel angry, or excited, or even sad."**_

_** Beca cocked her head in confusion. "Why would you like a song that makes you so sad?"**_

_** Molly smiled ruefully, pressing a kiss to Beca's forehead. "So you don't have to feel alone when you're sad."**_

Just like many of the defining moments of her life, Beca had taken her mother's words to heart, and it reflected in the music she produced. Each track strove to elicit some sort of strong reaction, whether it was joy, or aggression, or melancholy. That lesson had evolved into her purpose when she made music. It became the answer to her own "Why?" when she worked.

Sighing, Beca ran a hand through her hair, pulling out her phone to respond to an email that had come through in the middle of her class.

A tap at her shoulder yanked her from her work, and Beca laughed as a Capri-Sun juice packet was dangled in her line of sight. "Shut up! I can't believe you remembered!"

Jesse grinned, joining her on the bench, taking a sip from his own drink. "Of course I remembered. Capri-Sun was instrumental in forging our friendship."

Beca nodded. "It sure was." Her brows drew together as she returned her attention to her phone. "Hang on a second, let me just finish this."

He nodded, tilting his head in curiosity. "Whatcha doing?"

Beca smirked, thumbs tapping on her phone. "I don't know if you want to know. It might blow your mind."

Jesse shrugged. "Try me."

"This is me," Beca's tongue poked out of the corner of her mouth as she finished her message, "scheduling time with Usher to collaborate on some tracks for his next album." Beca put down her phone and looked up at Jesse with a grin.

He snorted, shoving at her shoulder. "I hate you."

"It's been something on the To-Do list, but we just haven't been able to set aside the time to actually follow through. Our schedules have been clashing lately, but now with me here, things are a little more convenient." Beca laughed at the completely awestruck look adorning Jesse's face. "I warned you, bro. Work doesn't stop because I'm here."

Jesse inclined his head. "I will concede to that." He propped his ankle on his outstretched leg, glancing sideways at his friend. "So, seriously, you're a Bella?"

"Chloe shanghaied me in the shower," Beca deadpanned. "She wouldn't leave until I agreed to auditioning."

"That's kind of hot," Jesse mused, clearly allowing his mind to form a visual.

"Perv," Beca accused, reaching out to shove him in the shoulder.

"Hey, you're telling me two hot, naked girls are occupying a singular shower stall," Jesse defended himself. "You can't _not_ expect my mind to go there. I'm a dude."

"You really need a girlfriend, J," Beca remarked with a grin.

Jesse huffed craning his head back against the bench. "Ain't that the truth? Because my encyclopedic knowledge of movie awesomeness is totally wasted on you."

Beca shrugged. "Not my fault I'm not into them. You knew that."

"I did," Jesse admitted. "It was one of the first arguments we had. I remember we tried to have a movie night when you were like eight and I had just turned six, and you completely shot that down."

"Because 'Vader' means 'father' in German, so you literally have 'Darth Father'," Beca recited with a smirk, recalling one of their first conversations as kids where she had thoroughly nixed Jesse's attempts to convert her to his everlasting love of movies.

"I still can't believe you logic-ed the biggest cinematic reveal in history," Jesse muttered. "Or that an eight year-old knew German. And that pains me because you have absolutely no connections for me to extort for my own goals and dreams."

Beca laughed, shaking her head. "Sorry. No one's asked me to do a movie soundtrack yet."

Jesse snapped his fingers in consternation. "Darn." Jesse cocked his head, surveying his friend. "You never told me why you hate movies so much."

Beca shrugged, fiddling with the strap to her bag. "Movies have happy endings. Life doesn't always work out that way."

"Kinda cynical, isn't it?"

Beca huffed out a scoff. "Not everything ends up with sunshine and rainbows, J."

Jesse frowned. "That's not the Beca I know."

Beca smiled ruefully. "People grow up, Jesse," she reminded him. "I'm not the same person I was at ten or eleven."

"No, you're not," Jesse mused. "Lucky for you, I still think you're awesome." He sighed. "One of these days, I am going to convert you to the wonders of movies. Then, you'll appreciate the simple things like _The Breakfast Club_ and _Rocky_."

"_Rocky_ and Capri Sun?" Beca shook her head in astonishment. "It really is a wonder how you don't have a girlfriend."

"Right?" Jesse hefted himself to his feet, departing with a jaunty wave. "Hope you guys are preparing for the Riff-Off, Bee Sting!"

Beca frowned, calling after him. "What the hell is a Riff-Off?"

Much to her dismay, he simply grinned.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Beca headed to the auditorium for the afternoon meeting with the rest of the Bellas. In her hand, she held her class schedule for the semester. The afternoon meeting was to coordinate a regular rehearsal schedule that didn't infringe on anyone's personal class schedule. She frowned as her phone started to ring from her bag, an unknown number showing up on the screen.

"Beca Mitchell."

"Hi, this is Mary Lightly of the ICCA calling about an inquiry you had about eligibility requirements."

Beca recalled having Damon do that for her. "Hi, yes."

"Well, given the circumstances you gave us, I would say that your candidate would indeed be ineligible for ICCA-sanctioned competitions. However, there certainly isn't anything stopping you from performances within the university, such as showcases or mixers. The ICCA has no jurisdiction over performances within the university."

Beca had admit it was a little disappointing to hear. "Alright, thank you very much."

"No problem. Have a good day."

Beca stopped at the auditorium doors, pulling them open and descended the stairwell to the stage. "You too."

"Hey," Chloe approached with a smile as Beca hopped onto the stage. She frowned at Beca's pensive expression. "Is everything okay?"

Beca shrugged. "Yes and no." She gestured to her phone. "That was the ICCA. Based on my situation, I'm ineligible for competitions."

Chloe's frown deepened as she opened her mouth to respond. Whatever she said was lost as Aubrey appeared at her elbow. "What's going on?"

"Due to my current circumstances, I'm ineligible for ICCA competitions," Beca explained.

"So, what you're telling me is that we can't have you on the Bellas?" Aubrey asked.

"Wait! Let's not get hasty," Chloe interjected. "Okay, so Beca can't perform with us in competitions." She sent a significant look to the brunette. "What else did the ICCA say?"

"Well, they can't stop me from participating in anything within the university, I just can't do anything that's ICCA-sanctioned."

"Okay, that's good!" Chloe enthused. "So Beca can still perform with us for things like mixers, and she can still help."

Aubrey threw up her hands. "With what?"

"It doesn't hurt to have another set of eyes," Chloe reasoned.

Aubrey's eyes narrowed as she looked from the redhead to the brunette.

"Fine." Aubrey glared at the brunette. "_But_ you are still required to attend all Bella's rehearsals and abide by the code."

Beca smirked, snapping off a sardonic salute. "Aye-aye, Captain."

Aubrey whirled to the rest of the Bellas, calling out to bring everyone together. "Okay! Let's get started then."

Beca was surprised when she caught Chloe's eye. Then astonished when the redhead stuck her tongue out and winked.

xxx-xxx-xxx

As the Bellas fell into a routine of classes and rehearsal, the foreboding Beca felt the first few practices only bloomed and grew stronger as the SBT mixer drew closer. If there was one thing that she learned through the trials and tribulations of her early years of her DJing career, it was cohesion that served as the strength of a DJ's mix. A mix had to flow just right to provide clubgoers with the seemingly never-ending stream of beat and rhythm to fuel the dance atmosphere. Sometimes, songs just fit together. Other times, one had to make them fit together

To say that first performance was a disaster would be, quite frankly, an understatement. Despite the insane rehearsal schedule, they really sucked.

Hard.

Beca had never been booed off a stage.

Ever.

Especially not by some meathead fratboy, clinging onto a red Solo cup like it was his life juice.

Tool.

As they stalked away from the frat house, a chorus of criticisms coming from every which way, the loudest coming from Aubrey as she rounded on Chloe, Beca could only watch everything come unraveled. It was only a shrill announcement that silenced the bickering.

"I have nodes!"

The revelation that Chloe was battling vocal nodules was shocking, but what was even more shocking to Beca was Chloe's insistence on performing despite the hindrance.

As they all vowed to support Chloe, a strange bonding moment between them all, Aubrey looked to Chloe, sympathy clear in the blonde's expression. It was the first time Beca had seen an expression other than disdain or that manic fanaticism on Aubrey's face.

"I'm going to head back to the apartment, you coming?"

"No, you go ahead." Chloe's voice sounded tired and defeated. "I'm gonna hang around here for awhile."

Aubrey smiled and nodded. She turned to the rest of the group. "We have a lot of work to do. I'll see you guys on Monday."

Beca waited until the rest of the Bellas left before she slowly approached the redhead. Lowering herself down on the grass beside Chloe, Beca maneuvered herself into a comfortable position. It took a few tries, but she finally settled herself, legs stretched straight out, with a triumphant grunt.

The noise prompted a small giggle from the redhead. "You're not used to wearing skirts, are you?"

"No," Beca grumbled, her tone just short of petulant. "I don't understand the appeal. I don't know about you, but I don't appreciate the air-conditioning to the crotch. It's like wearing a thong. Who can possibly feel comfortable with an self-inflicted wedgie?"

"Thongs can be sexy," Chloe argued.

"Oh, I don't mind when _other_ people wear them," Beca amended. "I actually enjoy the view in that case. I just don't prefer them, myself."

Chloe sighed, snapping her fingers in consternation. "Darn, there goes my birthday present for you."

Beca chuckled, a wry grin curling her lips. "Sorry for the inconvenience."

Chloe sighed, gazing out at the tranquil waters of the famous Barden Pond in the distance. "Can I ask you something?"

Beca's mouth quirked upward. "Sure, but can't promise that I'll answer."

"Fair enough," Chloe conceded. She squinted over to her companion. "Why do you pretend to be so bad at choreography?"

"Caught that, did you?"

"You have an amazing sense of rhythm," Chloe remarked. "I see you during rehearsals. You have a habit of tapping out the beat to whatever song we're doing, and it's always spot-on."

Beca chuckled and shrugged. "It's mostly to piss off Aubrey."

Chloe knew there was more to the story, poking the brunette to prompt her. "And?"

Beca tilted her head. "And I admit, the prospect of having you coming over to help me is attractive, too." She winked.

A blush stained Chloe's cheeks as she smiled, knocking her shoulder against Beca's. "You know, you don't have to pretend to be bad at choreography if you want a hug," she commented. "You can just ask…"

"I'm not much of a hugger," Beca confessed.

"Well, I am going to change that," Chloe declared, throwing her arms around Beca and squeezing tightly. "Beware the loss of your personal space."

"Foreboding," Beca deadpanned. She surveyed her companion. "Can I ask _you_ something?"

Chloe nodded. "Sure."

"Why aren't you _really_ getting the surgery?"

Chloe fell silent for a long moment. "Mostly because I'm scared."

"Of what?"

"There's no guarantee I'll recover from it," Chloe explained. "I could lose my singing voice. Even worse, it could impact my range."

"Seems like the benefits outweigh the risk though," Beca remarked. "I mean, this is your health we're talking about."

"Look, I admit that it's a point of vanity," Chloe divulged. "I pride myself on my upper register, and the idea that I could lose something that really sets me apart from the rest of the Bellas…" she shook her head, unable to finish her thought.

"I can understand that," Beca conceded. "Look, no matter what you choose, just know that I've got your back."

Chloe smiled. She reached over, grasping Beca's hand. "Thanks."

Beca smirked. "Anything for a pretty lady."

Chloe giggled, tipping over to lay her head on Beca's shoulder. "You sure are good for a girl's ego."

Beca had never found herself in such an intimate position before, but glancing down at the red mane of hair perched on her shoulder, a delicate hand folded in hers, she figured it wasn't so bad.

Even if she was in a skirt.

_And there we go! *Inches back to cover* Please don't hate me…_

_ In the next chapter, Beca gets a taste of the Atlanta club life, and the Bellas face some revelations. Beca faces her dad to frustrating results, and Chloe and Beca get closer._

_ I hope you guys like it. As always, don't hesitate to leave me a comment here or anywhere else. Any guest reviews, I'll try to post a response on Tumblr. Definitely gotta get to those, but they will be up there._

_ And, lastly, kudos to CJersey82, my partner in crime in this crazy endeavor! Hope you enjoyed!_

_*ISP_


	3. Chapter 3

_Seriously, you guys are awesome. Thanks so much to everyone who's joined me on this awesome AU journey. I appreciate everyone who's invested in this with me. I'm glad you guys enjoyed the last chapter! In this one, the Bellas start plotting, a certain senior Bella becomes privy to some very important facts, and Beca and Dr. Mitchell face off._

_And, of course, it wouldn't be fun if I left out some flirty banter with our favorite ladies…_

_Enjoy!_

* * *

CHAPTER 3

_Success is my only motherfucking option, failure's not  
Mom, I love you, but this trailer's got to go  
I cannot grow old in Salem's lot  
So here I go it's my shot  
Feet fail me not_

_This may be the only opportunity that I got_

No one understood the adversity of the music business more than Beca. This was not an easy career. Like professional sports, the industry ran on a very "bottom-line" philosophy. One could have all the talent in the world, but if a person couldn't produce when the spotlight was on, shining, and bright, that person wouldn't last long. More people ventured into LA only to have hopes and dreams dashed by the rigors of a highly scrutinized business, subsequently yanking the love and passion from ones being, than the ones who actually carved out a decent living.

It could have easily gone the other way, Beca was well aware of that fact. She could have gone to LA and just as easily found herself floundering in a futile endeavor. The early years had certainly tested her gumption and fortitude. But the love of music beat strong in her heart, fueling her in ways that nothing else could.

Beca understood what it was like to sacrifice for ones passion, to seize the moment for the fear that it may be the only one available. The timeline of one's relevance was never set in stone in the music business. An artist could be a flash in the pan just as easily as the next multi-generational icon.

Sacrifice wasn't a foreign concept to Beca. It's what she did every day.

xxx-xxx-xxx

As Beca exited her Intro to Biology class, grumpily stuffing her notebook in her bag as she bade goodbye to her lab partner – a chill dude named Aaron from North Carolina – she idly wondered when she had successfully made the transition into full-fledged college student. Effortlessly dodging the oncoming traffic of her fellow scholars on their way to their respective classes, making sure to swerve to the left once she hit the block before the IT building – Unicycle the Treble had an 11:30 class there and tended to swing wide to the gain enough momentum to take him up the walkway – Beca noticed that she had fallen into a sort of routine. Things around Barden University were now becoming familiar to her.

Shaking her head in disbelief – Seriously! Who needed Biology?! From her experiences, they weren't as much evolved from monkeys as everyone claimed – Beca made her way to the student union for some food. As she entered the building, she found herself corralled by the rest of the new Bella recruits.

Cynthia Rose spoke for the group. "We need to talk."

Beca frowned. "Okay."

They ushered her to a lounge in the basement of the student union, clustering around a group of chairs. Beca recoiled slightly as Cynthia plopped her down into the armchair at the head of the group. With all eyes on her Beca couldn't help the startling feeling of being interrogated.

She looked to the rest of the group, brow furrowed in curiosity. "So what's up?"

"We need your help," Cynthia Rose started.

"Aubrey's sets are totally lame, and that needs to change," Stacie continued.

Fat Amy finished, propping her chin on a fist. "And although my second cousin twice-removed, the most famous DJ in Tasmania, would be a better option, you're the best bet we have on this continent."

Beca huffed out a disbelieving sigh as she cast a glance around at her fellow Bellas. "You guys aren't serious." Her eyebrows shot skyward as the straight-faced expressions around her didn't change. "Holy crap, you are."

"Look, nothing against the Bella tradition, rah-rah and all that," Fat Amy pumped a fist in solidarity. "But Aubrey is stuck back in the twentieth century. Along with acid-wash jeans and Milli Vaniili's relevance." She brought herself back to her point. "You said it yourself."

"I did," Beca conceded. "But no one was supposed to take that as a call to arms and attempt a _coup d'état_!"

Jessica spoke up. Now that Beca thought of it, it was the first time she had ever heard the blonde speak. "Beca, we just got humiliated by a bunch of frat boys. If that's how uneducated morons view our performance, what do you think people like judges are going to think?"

As the other Bellas nodded their agreement, Beca threw her hands up in exasperation. "Look, guys, I'll be the first one to admit Aubrey's got a bit of a Napoleon complex going on, minus the whole compensating for height thing, but I'm not here to overthrow Aubrey," she argued. "Honestly, I'm just trying to get through this year with some sort of activity, so I can go back to work in LA."

"Yeah, but _we're _here to win," Cynthia Rose reminded her. "Look, I don't know about the rest of y'all, but singing is the one thing about myself that I'm completely on the level with. I know my pipes are fly, and I'm not about to let some dumbass frat boy boo me off no stage."

There were murmurs of assent. Cynthia Rose leaned forward. "Look, we're not here to overthrow Aubrey. She's a great captain, really. We just want her to realize that our set list can go beyond songs from, like, the eighties and sung by women."

"Yeah, she's actually a really cool chick," Amy commented. "Well, if you're not talking to her about music, or the Bellas, or the Trebles."

"All of us know who you are and what you've been able to do with music," Jessica cut in before Amy got on a roll. "We think you're the best chance we got to really make something that will make us stand out."

Beca grunted, wondering when she was appointed _de facto_ leader of the band of misfits that made up the new Bellas. She looked at each of the girls in turn, even the ones who got a bit shuffled amidst the stronger personalities of the group like Denise and Ashley were staring at her, hope filling their expressions. It was that moment that she realized just what the Bellas meant to the girls around her. She ran a hand through her hair.

"Okay, look, I have a gig at the Lava Lounge coming up soon," Beca began.

"As in the hottest, most exclusive club in Atlanta?" Cynthia whistled. "Damn, girl. You do realize there's never a line at that place because you have to be on the guest list? Period."

Beca shrugged. "I'm not quite sure." She waved her hands, bringing them back to the point. "Anyway, _if_ I get you guys on the guest list, and you just so happen to bring Aubrey and Chloe along, _maybe_ they get some ideas on how to change."

Cynthia Rose grinned, a gleam in her dark eyes. The other Bellas nodded approvingly. "Now that's what we're talking about."

xxx-xxx-xxx

Beca thought about her conversation with the rest of the girls for a very long time as she made her way towards the campus radio station. Something Cynthia Rose had said really resonated with her. "Look, I don't know about the rest of y'all, but singing is the one thing about myself that I'm completely on the level with," were her words. Beca could definitely relate to that.

_**A group huddled around as the huge studio speakers around them boomed with the intricate melody filled with bass-line, kick drums, effects, and a punishing beat. What really complemented the track, however, was the soulful, powerful accompaniment by a well-recognized voice. As the song ended, eyes first flicked to the young woman, a puppy really, responsible for the melody, including the change in the track then to the award-winning, multi-**_**diamond**_**, international superstar providing the vocals.**_

_**The superstar, an icon, really, the type people remembered generations after her initial relevance passed, popped a hip, brow furrowed and lips pursed in thought.**_

"_**So…what do you think?"**_

"_**That…was genius." The superstar whipped around to the petite brunette responsible for the track. "Beca, you really have something here! It sounds so much better. Let's do another take so I can really get a feel for the song."**_

_**Beca grinned, nodding her head. "Sounds good." She shot a smug smile to the executives who had caused the biggest stir. The superstar flounced into the booth, slipping a pair of headphones on.**_

_**Later, as they broke for lunch, Jules sidled up to her partner-in-crime. "That was amazing. I don't think anyone else would have thought of what you did."**_

"_**I'm sure someone could have," Beca hedged modestly. **_

"_**Yeah," Jules conceded. "But no one would've had the stones to shoot down a pop culture icon with only a few years in the business. For all you know, it could have epically backfired." **_

"_**Probably." Beca chuckled and shrugged, fiddling with the fader. "But if I know one absolute about myself it's that music is the only thing I'm really ever sure about."**_

That was something she definitely shared with Cynthia. Music was her sense of security as well. Even when she was unsure of who she was as a person, battling with her sexuality, floundering amidst the thought of her mother's passing, grasping onto her stepfather as her lifeline, she knew what she was able to do with music, not only from the DJ-ing side, but from the producing side as well. And it was that conviction that propelled her to stardom.

She stopped in front of the Barden University campus radio station, gazing in the window. She could see Jesse stacking records from a cart while a handsome guy manned the booth.

Jesse glanced up as he saw the door open, a wide smile spreading across his face as Beca slid in.

"Hey! What are you doing here?"

She returned the grin. "I heard you worked here. Figured I'd try and catch you in action."

"Oh yeah," Jesse scoffed, lofting an album. "My record-stacking abilities are totally award-winning."

Beca glanced over as the door to the booth opened and the other man exited. Jesse introduced the two, slinging an arm around Beca's shoulders.

"Beca, this is Luke, he's the station manager here."

Beca nodded her greeting. "Hey."

The handsome senior returned her gesture. "How's it going?"

"Luke, this is Beca Mitchell."

One blonde eyebrow shot up. "Like the DJ?"

Beca spread her arms. "The one and only." She grinned. "I look taller behind the platform."

"Rad." Luke nodded approvingly. "I dig your stuff. What are you doing here?"

Beca hitched a thumb. "Jesse and I go way back."

"Awesome. What are you doing at Barden?"

Beca shrugged. "Just giving this school thing the good ole college try."

Luke nodded. "Good stuff. Looks like Jesse's been holding out on me. Would you mind doing an interview when you're free?"

"Sure. I won't even charge the way I normally do." She grinned. "One condition, though."

"Name it."

Beca hitched a thumb to Jesse. "He does the interview."

Luke considered that for a moment. Beca could see him turning the idea over in his mind, knowing that it would have been Luke's preference to do the interview himself. Still, no person in his right mind would pass up this kind of opportunity.

"Deal." He turned to Jesse. "Hey, bro, I'm gonna grab a burger, you want one?"

Jesse cocked an eyebrow. "Burgers again? Dude, Luke, you're not gonna be twenty-two forever."

The blonde man smirked, hitching up his shirt and gazing down at the span of abdominals revealed showing six very distinct sections. "I think I'm good."

"He's good," Beca concurred, turning back to Luke. "You're good." She cast a sly glance over to Jesse, reaching up to tug on the hem of his shirt. "What about you, J? _You_ good?"

Jesse wriggled away, batting at her hands. "Get outta here!"

Beca grinned and hopped up so that she could sling an arm around his neck. Securing him in a headlock, Beca bent Jesse over, rubbing her knuckles to the top of his skull. "Lemme see your abs!"

Jesse's arms flailed, trying to dislodge the tiny but deceptively strong brunette. "Back off, Bee Sting, I don't ask to see your boobs to compare!"

Luke gazed at the two friends in bemusement. "I'm gonna leave you guys to it."

Beca give Jesse another strong noogie before she released him. She cast a glance around the station. "Not a bad set up you've got here."

Jesse shrugged. "It's good experience. Not what I really want to do."

"Ah, yes," Beca nodded knowingly. "You would like the score the next big Oscar sensation."

Jesse grinned. "Yup. Bag myself an Oscar and render moviegoers to tears and whimpers."

Beca chuckled. "There you go."

Jesse grabbed his stack of records, pushing the cart along. Beca followed him, offering a helping hand. He turned towards her, "Dude, check it out."

Beca smiled at the familiar record cover featuring a sprawled-out Molly Ringwald in front of Ally Sheedy, Anthony Michael Hall, Emilio Estevez, and Judd Nelson, all five of them frozen forever as their 1985 selves.

"_The Breakfast Club_." Beca grinned. "Your favorite movie."

Jesse nodded. "One of the greatest cinematic masterpieces ever from the awesome John Hughes, may he rest in peace." He tapped the record. "We should have a movie night. You know? For old time's sake?"

Beca rolled her eyes. "Ten years has not changed my stance on movies, Jesse."

Jesse turned to her, the album cover to The Stellas' album _Cry Baby Cry_, featuring a weeping woman, over his face. He tilted his head, the album tilting with it. "Please?"

Beca huffed a suffering sigh. "If it means you'll stop bugging me about it, sure. We'll do it at my place."

"Awesome." Jesse replaced the record, shooting her a wide grin as he leaned casually against the cart. "Prepare to experience the most epic of movie educations. A bona fide movie-cation."

Beca laughed, her head lolling back. "God, I've forgotten how much of a dork you really are."

"Don't be jealous of my awesomeness, Bee Sting." His expression turned sly as he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "Soooo. What's up with you and Chloe?"

Beca snorted. "What are you talking about, crazy boy?"

"I saw you at initiation," Jesse asserted with a firm nod. "There was some serious sparkage between the two of you."

"Nothing's going on," Beca scoffed. "We're just friends. She's…different."

Jesse turned to her, covering his face with the album cover of Ted Nugent's "Cat Scratch Fever" to illustrate his consternation. "I don't know, dude, I'm throwing the challenge flag on that play."

"Look, she's just a cool girl," Beca insisted. "She's kind of like a breath of fresh air. No pretenses, no fronts. It's really nice…if not a bit unsettling. Is she always like that?"

"Pretty much," Jesse agreed with a fond smile as he put the album back in its designated spot. "But weirdly enough, it works for her. Better yet, it's a perfect foil when paired with Aubrey. Chloe's probably the reason Aubrey hasn't gone completely loco this year." Jesse tilted his head. "Speaking of initiation night, where the hell did you and Stacie disappear off to?"

Beca's eyes widened, and Jesse was bemused to see a tint of red skate across pale cheeks. "Apparently back to my place," Beca mumbled.

Jesse's eyebrows shot skyward. "No shit? You slept with Stacie?! That's hot." He nodded thoughtfully. "I could see why. Her boobs are everywhere."

Beca's eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Are you kidding?" Jesse reached out and prodded his friend. "You totally sucked up to Miss Bradley when you were in the fifth grade because of her rack. Face it, Bee Sting, you're a sucker for a good set of lady bits."

Beca rolled her eyes skyward. "Why does everyone keep saying that?"

"You can't argue with evidence," Jesse returned. He sobered, turning to face his companion fully. "Hey, Beca?"

Engrossed in one of album covers, Beca didn't glance up. "Hmmm?"

"I'm glad we didn't lose our friendship."

This time, she did look up, meeting Jesse's eyes. A wide smile spread across her face, and Jesse was reminded exactly what drew him to her all those years ago. That smile.

"Me too, Jesse."

xxx-xxx-xxx

Why?

_Why?_

WHY?

WHYYYYY?!

Never had she hated a question more as Beca glared at her computer screen. She thought she could at least _try_ and be a good, conscientious student and at least attempt to crack into the ten-page minimum set for her Philosophy term paper. But, ten minutes into her odd, studious streak, she had nothing on her screen but a cover page and her single-word prompt.

Fuck this noise.

She grunted, moving her laptop off her lap. She glanced up as Damon entered into the apartment, his dry cleaning in one hand, groceries in another. He stopped by the kitchen, throwing his suits over the armchair.

"What's up, dude?"

The tall man shrugged, plopping down beside her on the couch, handing her a copy of the receipt. "Just toured the campus. Kinda made me regret on missing out, you know."

Beca smiled ruefully. Damon wasn't much older than she was, but he had already lived a life of hardship and strife. When he was eighteen, he had gotten himself mixed up in some bad things, only to land himself in jail until he was twenty-three. When she had first met him, Damon had just been fired from a menial job by a guy who looked like a dick anyway. There was just something about him that made Beca call out to him that first day. Four years later, he was more than just her driver, he was one of her best friends.

"Yeah."

"Not that this is a bad gig," Damon amended.

Beca waved a hand. "No worries, dude. I get what you're saying." She cocked her head. "You know, if you do want to go back to school, I would totally back you." Beca scoffed. "Hell, I'd even pay your tuition."

Damon nodded. "I know. I have no doubt about that." He shrugged. "I guess, I'm kind of scared to."

Beca smiled. "Well, maybe hanging around all this college stuff will help ease the fear."

"Maybe." Damon propped his feet on the coffee table. "Just to let you know, got a call from Vera, and she just got back from her vacation and is scheduling her flight out here. She said she'll send you the itinerary. And the Lava Lounge called to confirm everything, including your guest list."

"Awesome. Thanks for pulling double duty, Damon."

He shrugged. "No worries. Gives me something to do."

Beca nodded, lolling her head back against the couch cushion. "Damon, can I ask you something?"

"Sure. Hit me."

Beca tilted her laptop towards Damon, flashing him a pout. "I don't know what to write," she mumbled pitifully.

Damon burst out laughing at the ridiculous look on Beca's face. He shook his head. "I can't tell you what to write for your paper."

"I'm not asking you to write it for me," Beca insisted. "I'm just asking you to give me an idea to write about."

Damon shrugged, reaching for the remote and turning on the television. "What are you _supposed_ to write about?"

"I'm supposed to answer the question 'Why?'"

Damon's brows drew together. "Isn't that, I dunno, kind of vague?"

"It's for my Intro to Philosophy class." Beca grumbled, crossing her arms across her chest. "I feel like philosophy in itself is frustratingly vague."

"Have you thought about what you _want_ to write about?"

"Not really," Beca admitted. "I figure it would be about music, though."

Damon smirked. "C'mon, Beca. I mean, music is your life and all, but not _everything_ revolves around it."

Beca's pout deepened. "Says who?"

Damon shook his head. "Dude, you're the one who's all 'be different' with everything. Do you really want to do something predictable, or do you want to really set yourself apart?"

Beca's mouth dropped open in disbelief as she grabbed her laptop and began to type. "Dude, you're like a genius."

Damon shrugged. "I try."

Suddenly struck with inspiration, Beca's fingers started moving, the words rapidly appearing on the screen. Her brow furrowed, tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth, she typed out a sentence before her fingers paused. They twitched, as though more was supposed to translate from her brain, through her hands, to finally manifest onto the screen, but nothing else came forward, the pads of her fingertips stopping just short of actually pressing down on the keys. Finally, Beca slumped, closing the lid of her laptop with a muted click. She grunted, flopping sideways on the couch. "Yeah, I still don't know what to write about…"

Damon shook his head.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Later that night, Beca had sent Damon to pick up the Bellas in a large SUV that could fit all seven of the girls. Jesse, unfortunately, was studying for a test he had the next day and couldn't make it out. When Chloe had asked how they had managed to get VIP passes to the hottest club in Atlanta, Cynthia Rose had only shrugged, mentioning that she had connections and that everything was taken care of. Chloe had looked a bit suspicious, but shook it off, eagerly accepting the invite.

With the Bellas dressed to impress and comfortably ensconced in a vehicle dangerously close to being labeled as a limo, Cynthia Rose frowned when the SUV pulled up to Chloe and Aubrey's apartment just outside of campus and only Chloe climbed into the vehicle. "Where's Aubrey?"

Chloe shook her head. "She's slaving over possibilities for the competition. I tried to get her to come out but no dice." She poked her head through the divide between the passenger and driver seat. "Hey, Damon!"

Damon grinned at her over his shoulder. "Hey, Red."

"Thanks for driving us. Where's Beca?"

Damon's grin widened. "She's gonna meet you guys at the club. She's gotta take care of some things."

Chloe nodded, relaxing into the plush seat of the SUV as they weaved their way towards downtown Atlanta.

The car ride was filled with amiable chatter, but once they pulled up to the club, Cynthia Rose let out an awed whistle. A massive building, it already had a line winding its way around the building and down the block. A valet opened the door and escorted them out of the vehicle, up the red carpet, past the line, and straight in the door, much to the chagrin of the patrons outside.

They followed security up a pair of stairs to a balcony that overlooked the dance floor. He led them to their table that offered a great view of main floor of the club, already stocked up with a bottle service and a private bar, right by a staircase that led them directly down to their own private dance floor or the main dance floor below.

"Damn," Cynthia Rose muttered. "We got hooked _up_ for tonight."

The Bellas clustered around the table, passing drinks around and chatting amiably as the music from the house DJ pulsed through the speakers. As soon as the clock hit the top of the hour, the house DJ leaned into his microphone, pointing to the main stage.

_ALRIGHT, ATL, WE'VE GOT A MAJOR SURPRISE FOR Y'ALL. ON THE ONES AND TWOS, GRAMMY-WINNING, TRIPLE PLATINUM, THE HOTTEST THING RIGHT NOW…DJ LADY B!_

Chloe's jaw dropped as a very familiar brunette ascended to the stage to the excited roars of the crowd. She had heard the name before, had heard the songs all over the radio, but she had no idea who the face behind some of her favorite…Oh, sweet Bella…_lady jams_.

Beca waved her hands to the crowd below, cuing up the start to her set, and the first single that had propelled her to fame boomed through the club speakers. Slipping on a pair of headphones, Beca bobbed her head to the beat as the music started to swell.

There was something different about Beca as she performed. The constant sullen expression dominating her face had disappeared, replaced instead by a contented grin. Standing on that stage behind the turntables, practically swallowed up by the platform housing all her equipment – Chloe wouldn't be surprised if she was standing on a step or something – she looked completely at ease, a different sort of energy radiating from the five foot-nothing frame. She was completely magnetic on that stage, framed by the flickering lights and pulsing beat, manipulating her equipment with ease.

_Drop it, drop it low, girl  
Drop it, drop it low, girl  
Drop it, drop it low, girl  
Drop it, drop it low, girl  
Drop it, drop it _

_This is for Polow's bitches, for money-making bitches  
All my ladies, throw your hands in the air  
I got Patron in my cup and I don't give a fuck  
The baddest bitch in the club right here _

Cynthia Rose brightened when the beat dropped on the next record, and the energy of the crowd shifted with the music, reflecting the playfulness of the song. "Awwww, yeah, this is my jam!" She grabbed Stacie, hauling the other girl towards the stairs and down to the private dance floor a level below them to avoid the crush of people on the main level of the club.

"We should follow them," Amy remarked absently. "I've heard public molestation is frowned upon in the US. Tasmania is slightly more lax in its standards. It's almost encouraged."

Chloe laughed as she obligingly followed Amy down the steps, the rest of the girls trailing behind, already winding to the beat.

_They wanna see me drop it, drop it, drop it  
Wanna pop it, pop it, pop it, shake that ass on the floor  
You wanna see me shake it, shake it, shake it  
Yeah, you like it, like it, like it when I drop it real low_

_Yeah boy, you like that  
I can tell that you like that  
Yeah boy, you love it when my booty goes  
Boom, ba-ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom, boom_

Chloe was having a great time moving on the floor, sticking to dancing with the girls, but she found that most of her attention was focused up on stage to where the brunette was busying herself with the different equipment on stage. As Beca spun different records, mixing Top 40 hits and with popular songs that took their origin from Atlanta's hip hop culture. She even mashed up songs, taking two or more different tracks and seamlessly weaving them together into something completely different. Beca seemed so fluid, switching from her laptop, to the other equipment, much more apt with her movement then she ever was with the Bellas' choreography.

Chloe's head tilted in curiosity as one of the club waitresses ascended up the steps to the DJ booth, a drink in her hand. Beca craned her neck down as the woman leaned in close, clearly whispering in the DJ's ear not covered by the bulky headphones. Clearly, whatever the waitress said was amusing because Beca laughed, holding up a finger, the universal gesture to wait a second. Slipping the other cup over her ear as the current song started to wind down, Beca moved over to her equipment, manipulating levers and dials to effortlessly transition into the next track. Returning her attention to the waitress, Beca took the drink with a grin before she dug into her pocket, fishing out a wad of cash for a tip. The woman leaned forward enticingly, and Beca slipped a bill into the deep cleavage with a smirk. Chloe felt her gut twist as Beca offered out a flirty wink to the busty waitress as the woman descended down to the main floor. Chloe shook off the uncomfortable feeling threatening to permeate her entire body. After all, it wasn't like she had any claim to the brunette…

"Alright, ATL, hope you're loving life right now." Beca's disembodied voice rang through the club. "We're gonna take it back with a little old school flavor. This one's going out to Barden University, and my ladies of the Barden Bellas."

_Ah, push it  
Ah, push it_

As, it was like a wave of delight swept through the crowd, energizing them just as powerfully as one of Beca's hits. It was amazing how song over thirty years old prompted just as much excitement as the latest Top 40 hit. Immediately, variations of the infamous dance broke out all over the dance floor._  
_

_Oooh, baby, baby  
Baby, baby  
Oooh, baby, baby  
Baby, baby__  
_

_Get up on this_

xxx-xxx-xxx

Chloe and the girls hung around the VIP area, taking a break from the dance floor. Beca's set had lasted a couple of hours before the tiny brunette handed the turntables back over to the house DJ. Chloe nursed a Blue Hawaii, keeping an eye on the rest of the Bellas. Luckily, all of them seemed to handle their liquor well, and all of them had settled into a more social drinking atmosphere, sitting around the table while the music pulsed below.

She snorted out a laugh at some crack Fat Amy threw out, leaning against Cynthia Rose's shoulder. She shook her head at the group surrounding the table, already forming the beginnings of a bond. It was as good of a time as she'd ever had with a group of friends, this ragtag group of misfits that should have never been even extended the invitation to audition, let alone have ever cradled a Bella scarf in their hands. Margo, the preceding Bellas captain, would have sent them all away with a sneer and some rather rude, choice words.

Beca ascended the stairs with a grin, chuckling as she was greeted with cheers and raised drinks. She accepted the shot pushed into her hand, throwing it back as she took a seat in between Chloe and Cynthia Rose.

"You guys having a good time?"

"Awesome," Chloe complimented. "Thanks for the hookup."

Beca shrugged. "No worries. Just thought it would be nice for us all to get out together."

Cynthia took a sip of her drink. "Girl, that was a dope set." Nods of agreement rolled around the table.

Beca chuckled, tipping the waiter who brought her a drink. "I threw that one together once I heard they wanted me to spin." She shrugged. "I figured it would delight the masses if I added some ATL flavor."

"You just threw that together?" Chloe seemed awestruck.

Beca nodded. "I mean, well, yeah." She ran a hand through her hair. "The gig was a bit short notice – Afrojack or someone was supposed to appear instead of me, I think. When they heard I was in the area, they called me up to sub."

"I kind of had an idea of what I wanted to do since Atlanta has been so prolific and visible in mainstream music. I thought it would be a cool homage." Beca gestured vaguely. "Some mash-ups I already had prepared though, kind of my go-to for most gigs."

"Those were awesome," Chloe complimented.

"If we were doing some sick mash-ups like the stuff you were throwing down…" Cynthia Rose shook her head. "Ain't no way them frat boys would be booing us off the stage. Can you imagine if we broke out some of those songs? Peoples' heads would explode."

Unnoticed by the rest of the Bellas, Chloe's head snapped towards Cynthia at the girl's statement, and a thoughtful expression crossed the redhead's features. Unbeknownst to the rest of the group, the wheels started turning in one Chloe Beale's pretty little head.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Chloe thought about their conversation as Damon dropped the rest of the Bellas off at the dorms. Leaning in between the seats, she flashed her brightest, most innocent smile.

"Can you take me back to Beca's?"

Damon cocked an eyebrow, smirking at her over his shoulder. "I'm a bit concerned you're gonna take advantage of her weakened state," he teased.

Chloe shook her head. "You can't take advantage of the willing," she rejoined. "But seriously, I wouldn't do that. I just want to talk to Beca while all of this information is fresh in my mind."

Damon nodded. "Sounds good." He steered the car into the designated parking spot, ushering Chloe up the stairs and into Beca's apartment.

"She should be back soon. It doesn't take her long to pack up her stuff. She doesn't normally stay out late…relatively speaking." Damon spread his arms. "Make yourself at home, I guess."

Chloe didn't have to wait long before she heard the key wiggling in the lock, and she stood. Beca dumped her bag by the door, her head ducked down, focused on her phone.

"Hi!" Chloe greeted with a sunny smirk.

"Geeze!" Beca jumped back with a squeak, whirling to face Chloe. "What the hell is it with people breaking into my place?"

"Damon let me in," Chloe explained. "He's a cool guy."

"Yeah," Beca drawled. "Slightly concerned…"

Chloe laughed incredulously. "What? I'd imagine it would be okay for him to take me here. It's not like I'm some crazy person. You think I was going to stab you or something?"

Now that it was said out loud, Beca did admit the idea was rather ridiculous. "Well, no, of course not." Beca let out a deep breath. "I'm sorry, you just took me by surprise. I haven't really entertained anyone yet. Can I get you something to drink or something?"

Chloe grinned. "Sure. Whatever you're having."

Beca returned the grin. "Are you sure?" She led the way to the kitchen, gesturing for the redhead to take a seat at the breakfast bar. Moving to the fridge and taking a couple of bottles of beer from the depths, she popped the tops and placed one in front of Chloe.

"It's a ritual."

Chloe tipped back the bottle. "A toast to yourself?"

Beca nodded. "Something like that." She took another drink, eyeing the redhead closely. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?"

"I listen to your songs," Chloe blurted, a flush appearing on her golden cheeks.

Beca smirked. "I figured when you said you knew 'Titanium'." She shrugged. "Before I created my own identity, people said I was the lady David Guetta."

Chloe frowned. There was something in the way Beca delivered that last statement. "And you didn't like the comparison?" she deduced.

Beca shrugged. "It was flattering, but I didn't want to be like someone else." She fiddled with the ring encircling the fourth finger of her right hand. "I wanted to be different. I wanted to be the first Beca Mitchell or…" she chuckled to herself. "The first DJ Lady B, I guess."

At the sound of Beca's alter-ego, Chloe deflated. "You really can't perform with us, can you?"

Beca nodded. "It's kinda cheating."

Chloe was quiet for a long time. "Do you…" Chloe fiddled with the cap to her water. "Do you think that an a cappella group could do the things like the effects you use for your mixes?"

Beca paused, cocking her head at the other woman. "Are you asking me as Curious!Chloe or Co-Captain!Chloe?"

Chloe shrugged. "Maybe both," she admitted. "I don't know. A part of me wants to know if it's possible, a bigger part of me knows Aubrey would never go for it."

Beca considered that for a moment before she answered. "Have you ever heard of the reality show _The Sing Off_?"

Chloe shook her head.

Beca pulled out her laptop and typed in a search in YouTube, shifting the laptop towards her companion. "This is the group that won the latest season, and I really liked how they pushed the envelope on how they utilized their voices. That was part of the reason they won. They really turned people's perceptions on what is understood as a cappella."

Chloe watched in awe as the quintet effortlessly melded Kelly Clarkson's "Since U Been Gone" and Cee Lo Green's "Forget You" into one seamless song. Had she listened to this on the radio, she would have never guessed it was done with just voices.

Beca gestured to the screen. "This is what you need to be doing, but on an even grander scale. The Trebles, the Harmonics, whoever, they're all singing their songs straight, and it's really like a glorified karaoke night. Pulling samples from different genres and mashing them together would set you apart from other groups."

Chloe thought about that for a long moment. "But so much of the Bellas is traditional a cappella," she argued. "It's part of our identity as a music group."

"And I respect that, but it's what's holding you back," Beca commented. "Tradition is a great thing, but music wouldn't be what it was today without evolution and innovation. You need to give them something they haven't heard before. It's not enough to be good. You need to be different."

Chloe eyed her shrewdly. "And you know how to be different?"

Beca laughed. "Let's just say I would still be called the lady David Guetta if I didn't."

Chloe thought about that for a long moment. She nodded, conceding Beca's point. "Do you think we can pull it off?"

Beca nodded. "I think we have a lot of potential," she answered. "It's just a matter of tapping into it and highlighting people's strengths."

Chloe nodded as well. She cleared her throat, sending a sly glance to the brunette. "So…you were getting cozy with that dark-haired waitress at the club."

Beca frowned. "Which one?"

"The one who brought you the drink," Chloe edified. "You slipped her a tip in her cleavage."

"Huh…" Beca nodded slowly. She shrugged it off. "She was cool, but she's not my type anyway."

"What is your type?" Chloe blushed, ducking her head. "Sorry, I mean, you told Aubrey you're gay, but I guess I'm curious."

"It's okay," Beca assured her. She thought about it for a moment. "My best friend Jules says I'm a sucker for a good set of tits." Beca cocked her head. "Apparently history lends itself to that assertion. And you know, now that I think about it, she might be right…"

Chloe bit her lip, casting what she thought was a covert glance down to her cleavage, trying to see if she fit that description. Unfortunately, Beca caught her.

"Don't worry, you've got nothing to worry about." Beca winked. "You certainly qualify."

Chloe smirked, her confidence returning. "Are you saying my boobs got you to audition for the Bellas?"

"Oh no," Beca shook her head frantically. "I'm not falling for that. You're not gonna hold that one over me. I'm pleading the fifth."

Chloe cackled, reaching out to poke the girl in the side. "Admit it!"

Beca wriggled away. "No way."

Chloe grinned, surveying the other woman. "For what it's worth, all kidding aside, you really are an awesome DJ."

"Thanks." Beca sobered. "For what it's worth, I really am glad you barged in my shower."

Chloe smiled sweetly. "Me too."

Beca's smirk turned sly and conniving. "Even though I totally suspect you wanted a peek at the goods. I don't blame you, you know, you're not the only one pretty confident in 'all this'."

"Jerk!"

"Ouch, woman!"

xxx-xxx-xxx

Bright and early the next morning, Beca's phone buzzed. Groggily, she groped on her nightstand for her phone, swiping her thumb across the general area of the icon, groaning out her greeting.

"Beca Mitchell."

"It's me."

"Me needs to identify himself further," Beca grumbled, her voice thick with sleep. "I'm neither awake nor coherent enough to properly play an insipid version of 'Guess Who?'"

"It's Dad. I need to talk to you. Come down to my office before your classes." With that, Warren hung up.

Beca growled, staring at the phone in disbelief. "Good morning, Dad, how are you?" she muttered darkly, hauling herself out of the warmth and comfort of her bed. "Sure, I can come to your office; that's not totally inconvenient. Oh, thanks! I'll have a great morning even when you've woken me up at seven. No problem. Fuck you, too!"

Grumpy, suffering for a lack of sleep, with not nearly enough caffeine in her system to function properly, Beca pulled herself together, checking in on Chloe on the pull-out in the living room. Leaving the redhead a message on the coffee table beside some aspirin and a glass of water, she snuck out the door.

Heading across campus to the English building on the Arts and Humanities block of Barden University, Beca stomped up the stairs to the third floor that housed the offices of all the English professors. Ignoring the receptionist, she barged into her father's office, striding straight up to the desk.

"Good morning, Beca," Warren greeted her, pulling a book from his bookcase and tossing it on his desk.

Beca's mouth tightened. "Can we please skip the pleasantries? Not only did you wake me up at an ungodly hour, but you practically order me to come by when I don't have classes until eleven."

Warren braced his palms on his desk. "Well, if you weren't out all night, the amount of sleep you amassed wouldn't have been a problem."

Beca crossed her arms over her chest. "Please tell me you didn't call me here to lecture me on my sleep habits."

"Well, you were at a nightclub last night, and from what I hear, you didn't come back until very early in the morning."

"Geeze!" Beca threw her hands in the air. "Do you have spies tailing me or something?" She ran her fingers through her hair. "What's your point?"

"You have school!" Warren insisted.

"Yeah, during the day." Beca scoffed. "It's not like I skipped a class or something."

"No, but you shouldn't be out so late,"

"Is this where you tell me I have a curfew or something?" Beca deadpanned.

Warren pointed a finger, his brows drawn together in what Beca assumed was a stance of parental authority. "You need to get your priorities straight, Beca."

"My priorities straight?" Beca cocked an eyebrow. "My priorities are to make money doing what I love, and I certainly achieved that last night."

"Please," Warren dismissed her statement. "What could you have possibly made doing only two hours of work?"

Beca cocked an eyebrow, pretending to count on her fingers. "I might be short some change, but by my calculations, about six figures. And that's still minus a pretty substantial bar tab. Bottle services are kind of expensive, you know." Beca's head tilted daringly to the left. "Isn't that more money than you make in a year?"

Warren's face reddened. "All the money in the world will not replace a quality education, Beca."

"And a quality education will not replace my love of music," Beca countered. "God, you don't understand it, do you?" Beca's eyes blazed with fury. "You never did. I rather be making pittance in some hole-in-the-wall club doing what I love than becoming a millionaire with some fancy degree in a job that makes me cringe getting out of bed in the morning. The way I see it, I have the best of both worlds. So right now, my priorities are to make sure I continue to be relevant in the highly lucrative, highly satisfying career of my dreams despite being subjected to this asinine deal that really has no benefit to me in the end all because my negligent father decides that he wants to parent me fifteen years too late."

Beca threw her hands skyward once again. "God, Dad, really? You're pulling this shit now?"

"Watch your mouth, young lady!"

Beca growled. "No."

"Excuse me?"

"No," Beca repeated fiercely. "I am twenty-three years-old. I'm not some little girl you can chastise into silence."

Warren bristled. "I am still your father, Rebeca!"

"Really?" Beca's eyes pierced the distance between them. "When?"

He looked thrown for a second, unprepared for the gauntlet thrown rather forcefully to the table. "What?"

"When were you my father?" Beca challenged. She could feel the emotions welling up in her body, threatening to spill over in the physical manifestation of tears. She fought them down, refusing to let her father see just how much this was affecting her. "When you were stuck in your office, preferring to be there than with your family? When you walked out on us? When you decided to be someone else's father and forget about me?"

Warren's face fell, and he moved from behind the barrier of his desk between them. "Beca…"

"No." Beca backed away, refusing to let her father see how the emotions were surging just beneath the surface. "You don't get to do that. You don't get to feel sorry for me. I turned out just fine without you."

"I just…" Warren faltered, unsure of how to proceed. "I just want what's best for you."

"You should have thought of that a long time ago," Beca scoffed. "It's like I told you, Dad. You don't get to choose when to parent me, and you certainly don't get to choose a time when I've been an adult for quite a while."

With that, she whirled away, storming out of the office, practically running out of the building. Fumbling in her pocket for her phone, Beca pushed the contact name with shaky fingers. Art answered almost immediately.

"Beca? Is everything okay? Is something wrong? Are you hurt?"

"Everything's fine, Art," Beca assured him. She sighed, sniffling slightly. "I just…I wanted to call you."

"Okay." Art knew enough to know when Beca just wanted to hear his voice to chase away whatever was bothering her. He started talking, telling her little anecdotes of what had been happening since the last time they had spoken. He mentioned going up to see the rest of the Landry family for Beca's grandmother's birthday. He described the rather humorous first meeting between Art, his two younger brothers, Beca's uncles Gabe and Eli, and the young man daring enough to date Gabe's daughter, Beca's cousin Aria.

As he continued to speak, Beca could feel the tension melt away, and she laughed as Art commented, the dryness clear in his deep voice, "I think the little bastard peed his pants after Gabe growled."

"I love you, Art." Beca choked down the tears that threatened to spill over. "I miss you."

"Love you too, kiddo. Gram, Grumps, and the rest of the brood send their love." Art's voice softened. "I'll be out there for Thanksgiving. You just stay safe out there, okay?"

"Okay."

Beca hung up, dropping down on the grass, leaning back against the trunk of the tree she was huddled beneath. It never ceased to amaze her just how different the two men who existed in her life were. One man had contributed to her creation then dismissed his parental responsibilities as easily as he brushed lint off his coat. The other man had no biological obligation whatsoever towards her but embraced his role as a father and extended his family to include her and her mother.

Genetics be damned, Beca had decided long ago. Family consisted of the ones who stuck around.

xxx-xxx-xxx

The ringing of her phone caught Beca's attention as she exited her Women's Studies course. As Beca fished the device out of her bag, she was bemused to find Chloe's bright and smiling face twinkling at her from the screen, the accompanying name identifying "The Awesome Chloe Beale" as the caller. Beca chuckled, accepting the call.

"Chloe? How did you get my number?" Beca glanced down at her phone, Chloe's picture still displayed on the screen. "Better yet, how did _I_ get _your_ number?"

Chloe chuckled. "I may have swiped your phone, put my number in, then texted myself from it."

"I am absolutely not surprised." Beca moved to a bench off the path and sat down.

"Figured I'd do you a solid," Chloe quipped. "Thanks for letting me stay over, by the way. I hope you don't mind, but I made myself breakfast."

"No worries," Beca assured her. "Although, if you turn into my first stalker, I'm going to be severely pissed," she teased.

"I would think I'd be the best kind of stalker," Chloe remarked.

"You're off to a good start," Beca commented. "You did bust into my shower. Doesn't get more stalkerish than that."

"Good point."

Beca laughed. "So, creeper, what's up?"

Chloe giggled. "I need to pick your brain without the pressure of Aubrey hovering over me."

Beca snorted. "Yeah, that doesn't sound creepy at all…"

"You're a very difficult person to converse with, you know that, right?" Chloe remarked drolly.

"I'm sorry. Please, continue."

"Can you meet me at the campus library?"

"Sure…" Beca considered that for a moment. "Just a quick question. Where exactly is the library?"

A quick set of directions later, Beca took a hesitant step into the Fitzgerald C. Barden University Library. It was an intimidating building, clearly a relic from when the university was first founded. It was a majestic structure, the pride and joy of the university, built by Barden as a grand homage to his lasting legacy. Navigating her way through the multiple levels to the upper floors, Beca wound her way through the stacks until she found Chloe relatively tucked away in a corner.

Beca craned her head, taking in the books lining each wall from surface to ceiling. "What is this place?"

Chloe shot her a wry look, tapping her pen against her notebook, a textbook at one elbow, her open laptop at the other. "The library," she drawled succinctly. "It's a place typically used by most college scholars for research and study. You know," she winked, "_learning_ and all that."

Beca nodded thoughtfully, clutching the strap to her bag. "Huh."

Chloe cocked her head, an amused smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. "You've never stepped foot inside a library in your life, have you?"

Beca plopped down into the seat beside the redhead with a winning smile. "Nope."

The redhead giggled, leaning back in her chair. "Well, I'm glad I can offer you this first-time experience."

Beca snorted. "I think I could have lived a satisfying life without it. But thanks." She threw her bag on top of the table, crossing her arms on the worn leather, propping her chin on top. "Whatcha doing?"

"What one typically does in a library," Chloe deadpanned.

Beca shrugged. "Again, I wouldn't know. Never did do much studying." She tilted her head, taking in the books and other materials littering the surface.

"You really take this school thing seriously, don't you?"

Chloe laughed. "Well, not all of us are multi-platinum, award-winning DJ's with that to fall back on."

Beca conceded her point with a tilt of her head. "So what's your major?"

"Pre-Med."

"Seriously?"

Chloe cocked an eyebrow. "I feel like I should be offended…"

Beca shrugged. "I didn't mean anything by it. I just would have never guessed that."

"What would you have guessed?"

Again, Beca's shoulders rose. "I don't know. Something involving teaching, honestly." She grinned. "You're good with teaching dance moves after all."

Chloe laughed. "It's been a dream of mine since I was a kid," Chloe divulged. "My mom said that I used to walk around in a lab coat with a toy stethoscope around my neck and heal my stuffed animals and Barbie dolls by singing to them."

Beca grinned. "Now why doesn't that surprise me? What kind of doctor do you want to be?"

"I want to be a pediatrician," Chloe revealed. "I love kids."

"Again," Beca pointed to her face, carefully arranged into a deadpan expression. "Check out my surprised face." She leaned back, propping her sneaker on the chair and resting her chin on her upraised knee. "So what made you actually want to study it in college?"

"Would you believe _Grey's Anatomy_?"

Beca's head tilted in confusion. "Like the big textbook on human anatomy?"

"That's actually impressive you know that, but no." Chloe searched Beca's face, surprised that the reference was drawing a blank. "The television show? On ABC? McDreamy?"

Beca shrugged. "I don't watch too much primetime TV, honestly. Maybe a couple of the singing shows, mostly because they ask me to perform on the result episodes or they want to use a song for some cheesy montage…who knows?" Beca delved into the dredges of her pop culture knowledge. "Is that the one with the hot lesbian couple? The badass Latina who, like, breaks bones for a living and the super cute blonde?"

Chloe giggled. "If that's the way you remember it, sure."

Beca shook her head. "I honestly don't know much about the show, just that those two are hot."

"Well, the pediatric surgeon, the super cute blonde, is talking to a bunch of interns about pediatric surgery, and she's explaining how her specialty is different than general surgery."

Beca nodded, following her so far. "Okay."

"She said some stuff that really got to me," Chloe explained. "She said, 'These are the tiny humans. These are children. They believe in magic. They play pretend. There is fairy dust in their IV bags. They hope, and they cross their fingers, and they make wishes, and that makes them more resilient than adults. They recover faster, survive worse. They believe.'" Chloe's face had relaxed into a dreamy, tender expression. "She said they have miracles and magic and that anything is possible." She beamed. "Sounds like a pretty cool place to work, doesn't it?"

Beca could only look at Chloe as she talked, feeling herself grow more and more enchanted with this vivacious, bubbly redhead who seemed to transcend all perceptions within Beca's cynical mind. She had never known someone like Chloe, someone who admitted with absolute seriousness and severity that she believed in magic, in magical things. That, in turn, seemed to make Chloe herself seem magical.

"Sure, if you believe in that sort of thing."

"Magic and miracles aren't horrible things to believe in," Chloe declared staunchly. As Beca cocked an eyebrow, her expression softened into one torn between amusement and fond affection.

Chloe shrugged shyly. "I think if adults thought like kids more often, the world would be a better place."

Beca's smile had a slight irony to it, but she nodded. "I guess, but if more people thought that way, it wouldn't make people like you so awesome."

Chloe blushed, ducking her head down at the compliment. "Thanks."

Beca's smile softened. "No worries. It's true." She cleared her throat, severing their connection. "So, what did you call me here for?"

Chloe pushed aside her study materials, clearing the space directly in front of her. She folded her hands, intertwining her fingers. Grave blue eyes pierced the air between her and Beca until they zeroed in on a pair a slightly darker shade of blue.

"I want to know what you know."

Beca's smile grew predatory as she mirrored Chloe's posture.

"Chloe Beale…I thought you'd never ask."

_And…done! Whoo! Hoped you guys liked that one. The songs used in this chapter are "Drop It Low" by the lovely Ester Dean, also known as Cynthia Rose, Eminem's "Lose Yourself", and "Push It" by Salt 'N Pepa._

_Next chapter, the Riff-Off!...and more. As usual, let me know what you think here, on Twitter, or on Tumblr. I'll normally respond to all avenues…Guest review responses will normally be put on Tumblr (I'll get started on those soon). Thanks as usual to the other half of Team P&K, CJ, also known as CJersey82. She keeps me in check!_

_Until next time,_

_*ISP_


	4. Chapter 4

_Wow, I admit I'm completely overwhelmed. This fandom sure is nice! I'm glad everyone is enjoying this little venture, and thanks to everyone who's left a comment, liked, favorited, followed, etc. You guys are great!_

_This chapter has a little bit of everything, a little bit of the Bellas, a little bit of Jesse, and even an interesting scene with Aubrey and Beca. And, of course, it wouldn't be fun without some Beca/Chloe flirting. I just hope you're not all throwing things at my head by the end of the chapter (I mean that in a good way…kind of)_

_And so, here you guys go! Enjoy!_

* * *

CHAPTER 4

_I watch the ripples change their size  
But never leave the stream  
Of warm impermanence and  
So the days float through my eyes  
But still the days seem the same_

If Beca had learned one thing while she was in the music business, it was the importance of change. Even in the span of months, let alone years, music and its industry was a constantly developing entity. There were always new trends inserting themselves into the mainstream, changing the face of music for its contemporaries.

Beca had found the ones willing to adapt, the ones willing to evolve with the music while keeping the things that were intrinsically unique about themselves, were the ones that proved to have long, fortuitous careers. Music was a constantly changing beast, but as long as one evolved within the music business, changing with the times and the trends, there would always be room for one more artist.

xxx-xxx-xxx

"Wow."

Chloe gazed in awe at the makeshift studio set up in the second bedroom of Beca's apartment, one she hadn't seen the last time she had visited. Keyboards, mixers, beat pads, speakers, and more were strategically placed around a massive iMac desktop computer.

Beca chuckled. "It wasn't easy, but I managed to take my work with me."

"Is this the bare necessities?" Chloe asked, running a finger over the keyboard.

Beca shook her head. "The bare necessities would be my laptop and some headphones." She smirked wryly. "I'm a minimalist."

Chloe grinned. "So I see."

Beca gestured her over to the computer, rolling another seat over so the redhead to sit.

Chloe spun around in the rotating chair, grinning widely. "Enlighten me to the knowledge of the universe, All-Knowing One."

Beca chuckled indulgently. "You're such a goof."

Chloe giggled, still amusing herself by spinning in the chair. "It's part of my charm."

"Okay, look." Beca typed in her password, waiting for the computer to boot up, shifting the monitor so that Chloe could see the screen. She manipulated the pointer to one of the many files on the desktop. "Do you remember the mash-up album Linkin Park and Jay-Z did a couple of years ago?"

Chloe nodded. "Yeah, there were about six songs that mashed together from some of both of their biggest hits. I actually liked that album a lot."

"So did I," Beca agreed. "It was definitely something on par with Aerosmith and Run DMC collaborating on 'Walk This Way'."

Her fingers flew across the keyboard, bringing up sound-bytes for two songs. "So, basically, if you look at the album, the reason each song sounds so good is that the pairings match well together from a construction standpoint."

Chloe cocked her head. "What do you mean?"

"Well, check out the tempo for 'Big Pimpin'' and 'Papercut'." Beca's finger dragged across the sound strip, following the peaks and valleys. "It's actually very similar and the chorus for each of the songs has the same rhythm, almost the same pattern in the cadence of how the words were delivered." Beca leaned back. "That's kind of the basis of how you go about a good mix."

Chloe digested that, nodding thoughtfully. "Okay, but when you mix, how do you know if one song is going to work well with another?"

Beca shrugged. "Basically, it's a matter of finding the right chord progressions. If a song has a similar transition or a similar breakdown, it's usually a good lead in to the next song."

Again, Chloe's head bobbed, her eyes tracking the peaks and valleys of the song.

"But even when songs don't necessarily go together, there are still ways to manipulate the track to lessen the difference," Beca added. She rotated her chair back to the computer, tapping on the keyboard. "This is one mash-up I normally use when I'm spinning."

A couple of clicks, and Dev's "Bass Down Low" exploded from the speakers with flavors of Nicki Minaj's "Super Bass" blended in. Chloe's eyebrows shot skyward when strands of U2's "With or Without You" melded into the track, echoing just beneath the other two songs.

"This is amazing," Chloe enthused. "It's like I'm getting a peek into how your mind works when you're making music."

Beca nodded. "It's definitely a matter of knowing what songs can go together and how to make them as seamless as possible."

"Okay," Chloe frowned. "But how would we do that with our current set list?"

Beca chuckled. "Well, the knee-jerk reaction would be that we can't because our setlist is so boring not even my innate musical genius would be able to salvage it."

Chloe bit her lip, hesitant to agree. "Well, yeah, but say that was a caveat," she edified. "Say we could do whatever we wanted, but we absolutely had to use the Bella setlist."

Beca thought about that for a moment. "Well, one thing you have going for you is that some people do recognize the songs, and you can never underestimate the power of nostalgia."

"What do you mean?"

"It's like when I'm spinning," Beca clarified. "Normally, people want up-tempo music they can dance to, something that they're familiar with because it's the hottest track on the radio right now." Beca pulled up a song, and Chloe perked up as Montell Jordan's "This Is How We Do It" started to play.

"Ohmigod, I love this song!"

Beca smiled as Chloe started to belt out the words.

_This is how we do it, it's Friday night and I feel all right  
The party is here on the West side  
So I reach for my 40 and I turn it up  
Designated driver take the keys to my truck__  
_

_Hit the shore 'cause I'm faded  
Honeys in the street say, "Monty, yo we made it"  
It feels so good in my hood tonight  
The summertime skirts and my guys in Kani__  
_

_All the gang bangers forgot about the drive-by  
You gotta get your groove on before you go get paid  
So tip up your cup and throw your hands up  
And let me hear the party say_

"But, as you so aptly demonstrated, nothing gets the crowds going better than a good old-school track everyone knows and can't help but sing along with. That's something that you guys can play on as something familiar with the crowd."

Chloe leaned back in her chair. Her brows drew together as she contemplated what Beca just said.

"Okay," Chloe began slowly, "so say we do this. What would be the benefit? What would we try to accomplish in changing everything?"

Beca shrugged. "From what I've understood, your set list has been the same since the Bellas were started. It's no wonder that you haven't won Nationals. The judges already know what you're going to sing. Even worse, the audience already knows what you're gonna sing, so they can't get into it because it's something they've already seen before."

"Yeah, but that isn't necessarily a bad thing," Chloe pointed out. "Knowing what our setlist will be is like a trademark of the Bellas and it's something the judges recognize."

"Sure," Beca conceded, "but the problem is, our performances are forgettable. Your objective is to make your performance so memorable that, even when another group is on stage, the judges are still fixated on what they just saw from you. It's the same sort of concept with me in my DJ-ing or when I produce."

"What do you mean?"

Beca grinned. "If you really think about it, there are millions upon millions of DJs out there. It's my job to separate myself from the rest of them so that places like the Lava Lounge _want_ me to spin for them rather than DJ-Joe Schmoe. Same thing with the producing part of what I do. I'm up against people like Dr. Dre, or Babyface, or Scott Storch. I have to prove to the artists that want to work with me that I can give them something different."

"And this will be something that will help us win?" Chloe asked.

"Definitely," Beca assured her. "Part of it is shock value. You've built your reputation on traditionalism. Nothing will catch the judges' attention more than doing something so radically different from the norm."

"Would you be able to use a song in our catalogue and build a mix around it?"

Beca smirked, cocking an eyebrow. "It's not a question of if I _would_," she drawled with a wink.

Chloe narrowed her eyes. "Now you're just being difficult."

Beca laughed. "No, I'm not!" she defended. "Look, Chloe, the fact that you're coming to me is a good start. It means you're willing to change, _but_," Beca leveled a meaningful gaze at the redhead, "at the core, you're still using the same song. Putting in a couple of effects isn't going to change that."

Chloe sighed. "I'm aware of that," she mumbled. "But I feel like if you can use something from our current setlist, I don't know…" Chloe waved her hands, clearly stumbling for the right terminology. "It might let me ease Aubrey into it…at least the idea, or something." Chloe huffed ruefully.

"That is…given that her head doesn't explode the moment I even _hint_ at the idea of change…"

Beca held up her hands in surrender. "Okay, fair enough."

Chloe smiled, nudging the other woman. "Thanks for doing this though."

Beca shrugged. "It's the least I can do since I'm not competing with you guys."

"Well, because you've been so patient, let me take you out for food." Chloe stood, tugging on Beca's hand. "Come on, I know a great place."

Beca cocked her head. "I don't know if that's fair," she remarked. "I only spent a couple of dollars on your coffee. You're gonna spend much more on dinner."

Chloe beamed as she opened the door, ushering Beca out. "Well, I guess that means we're gonna have do something some other time so you can make up the difference."

Beca grinned, conceding the point. "I guess so."

xxx-xxx-xxx

At Chloe's insistence, the redhead ushered Beca into her SUV (a BMW X5, thank you very much). A short drive took the pair to Fitz's, a popular burger joint just outside of campus named, like most institutions, after Barden's founder Fitzgerald Cromwell Barden. As they slid into the comfy booth, perusing the menu, Chloe took a sip of her water, sending a glance to Beca.

"Can I ask you something?"

Beca nodded. "Sure."

"So, I get that you're just starting college and all, but what brings you to Barden?" Chloe ventured. "I mean, you're…DJ Lady B. I'm sure you could have easily gone somewhere in LA."

It seemed to be the wrong question as Beca's face fell, shadowed by a dour, displeased expression. Just as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, reverting back to Beca's normal casual, blasé indifference.

"My dad is a tenured professor here," she revealed, absently swirling a French fry in ketchup. "I didn't really have much choice."

The conversation halted as the waitress came to take their orders, and Chloe thought about what Beca had just revealed. Her brow furrowed as she went over the courses she had taken her past four years and the professors that taught them.

"Your last name is Mitchell, right?"

Beca nodded, and she could see the wheels turning in Chloe's head.

"Oh! So your dad is Dr. Mitchell? The English professor?"

Again, Beca nodded.

"Huh," Chloe's head bobbed thoughtfully. "I could see it."

Beca glowered. "I'm gonna assume that's a compliment because I'm disinclined to ever hold any sort of comparison to my father."

Chloe cocked an eyebrow. "I take it you're not close."

"He's not the best father figure, no," Beca muttered. "He tends to pick and choose when he wants to parent me, and it's always at his convenience, not when I actually need him."

"So that's why you're here?" Chloe asked. "Because he works here?"

Beca pulled a face. "He wanted to keep an eye on me," she intoned with a touch of apathy. "Make sure I actually attempt to complete this degree."

"I'm sorry," Chloe sympathized. "Parents can be tough."

"That's my experience," Beca agreed flippantly.

"It doesn't sound like you think too highly of him."

Beca blew out a deep breath, taking a sip of her soda. "He was never around when I was a kid," she divulged. "He gave so much of his heart and soul into his work that it didn't leave much to give to me and my mom. They started arguing a lot, and he started taking longer and longer hours. My mom got fed up, and finally, he walked out on us when I was ten. Turns out he was having an affair with another faculty member at the college he taught at."

Chloe's eyes widened. "Wow…"

"He took the job with Barden after he left, and my mom and I moved to Brooklyn soon after."

"Whatever happened after that?"

"He ended up marrying her," Beca mumbled. "They have a kid. He's like eleven. I think she teaches here, too."

Chloe's heart went out to Beca. She couldn't fathom how much being here hurt with the shadow of her father and his indiscretions hanging over her subconscious. "What's her name?"

"Sheila Gardner." Beca scowled. "Also known as the step-monster."

"Dr. Gardner?" Chloe wrinkled her nose. "I had her sophomore year. I took her class with Aubrey so I could fill my Arts and Humanities GenEd."

Beca shook her head. "I can only imagine how she is as a teacher if her personality is any indication."

"Not a good experience," Chloe divulged. "I'm honestly surprised she's still on staff. I know so many people have given her bad evaluations at the end of the year."

"What does she teach?"

"Political Science," Chloe answered. "She's like a crazy genius and super smart. There's no question she knows her stuff." Chloe shook her head. "Unfortunately that doesn't automatically translate into being the best teacher."

"I honestly don't know why I'm still so tweaked over it," Beca admitted, tracing over the headphones inked into her left wrist. "I mean, we're all better off. My mom married my stepdad Art when I was twelve, and he's been more of a father to me than my dad ever was."

"Doesn't mean it doesn't still hurt," Chloe sympathized, reaching over to place a hand over Beca's. "No one likes to think they're not worth it."

"Yeah." Beca shrugged it off. "I mean, it is what it is. I'm mostly over it…mostly." She shook herself from her self-deprecation, forcing out a smile. "So what about you?" she asked. "I don't want to bring the mood down with my family's dysfunctions."

Chloe shrugged. "I can't really complain," she remarked. "My parents worked a lot, but they made time for all of us kids."

Beca grinned. "You came from a big family, huh?"

Chloe nodded. "I'm the baby. Four older brothers. My oldest brother Calvin is thirty. He and his wife live in Athens with their kids. My next oldest brother, Cameron, is twenty-eight. He's in the Navy, stationed out in San Diego."

"Is he a SEAL?"

"Yeah," Chloe chuckled ruefully. "Dad was so proud, but I don't think I've ever seen my mom cry so much when he told them he wanted to do it."

"Is the rest of your family as intense?"

Chloe laughed. "No, not really. My next brother Collin is twenty-five, and he works with my dad in the finance world. My youngest brother Carson is twenty-four. He's the little rebel of the family. He's not sure what he wants to do with his life, so he took a couple of years off after graduation. He's out 'finding himself' in Europe."

"And your parents are cool with that?"

Chloe laughed. "As cool as they can be, I guess. Mom just isn't comfortable with him being so far. He wanted to go to law school, but he got burned out a bit in college. Dad's letting him travel through Europe for a bit to get his head on straight."

"Is he still going to law school?"

Chloe nodded. "Yeah. I actually just talked to him last week. He says he's having fun being a bohemian for a while, but being a lawyer has always been a dream of his."

"Sounds like the holidays are fun," Beca remarked ruefully.

"They are when we can get everyone together. It's looking good so far. Cam is always the one we have trouble with, but this year might be our year." Chloe brightened. "Speaking of, what are you doing for Thanksgiving?"

Beca shrugged. "My stepdad Art is coming up to spend it with me, but we're not sure what we're gonna do."

"You can come spend it with me and my family," Chloe offered. "We'd love to have you both."

Beca smiled. She couldn't help but be endeared at Chloe's enthusiasm. "That's really cool of you. I'll run it by Art."

Chloe beamed. "We're gonna have so much fun! I can't wait to introduce you to everyone!"

"Geeze, Chlo," Beca teased. "Isn't it a little early in the relationship to meet the parents?"

"Well, you know what they say about lesbians and second dates," Chloe remarked with a good-natured wink.

Beca shook her head. "I feel so cheated," she sighed. "I'm getting all the aspects of a relationship without any of the perks."

Chloe's expression darkened as she leaned closer to Beca, one hand snaking out, her fingers dancing over the back of Beca's palm in a subtle, sultry caress. "Well, you know, the perks are pretty amazing. Work hard enough, you just might see how amazing they could be…"

Beca grinned. "You're a dangerous woman, Chloe Beale."

"What up, aca-bitches?"

Beca and Chloe glanced up to find the Bellas, minus Aubrey, clustered around their booth, grinning down at them.

Amy gasped, clapping her hands over her mouth, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Did we interrupt your date?"

Beca tossed a balled-up napkin at the blonde. "Get outta here."

"No, it's totally cool," Amy assured them, squishing into the booth. "Nothing better than spreading the lady love. I just feel sorry for Cynthia."

The girl in question scowled, glaring over at Amy. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Honey, because you are the pepper to my salt, I'm gonna lay down some salty knowledge for your peppery goodness." Amy paused, taking in a breath. "Lesbihonest…you need to embrace the Skittles and taste the rainbow…"

Nods swept knowingly through the group, and it became obvious that Cynthia Rose really had no response. Lilly's mouth moved, and they all assumed she had spoken. What, no one knew exactly. A communal shrug, and the rest of the Bellas piled into the booth.

"Oooh, fries." Amy swiped a couple from the plate, dipping them liberally in ketchup. She chewed thoughtfully. "Not bad. Definitely not up to par with Tasmanian fries, but there's a conspiracy theory that the French stole the recipe from a Tasmanian sous-chef when he was distracted by a grease fire."

"Can I ask you something?" Denise spoke up, craning her head to Amy. "What made you come here?"

Amy shrugged. "Wanted to see what the big deal was about America. Besides, Tasmania gets boring when you've reached the level of infamy I have. It gets tiring juggling boyfriends and a hefty social schedule."

"I call bullshit," Cynthia Rose piped up. "Bet your ass is wanted all over Tasmania."

"Don't be silly," Stacie chastised. "It's not a bad thing to be wanted. Believe me, I would know."

The quip drew a wave of chuckles throughout the group. Beca looked around at their group of seven smushed into the relatively small space of the booth. A startling thought skated through her mind, and she smiled reflexively.

She liked these girls…

Huh.

xxx-xxx-xxx

As Chloe dropped Beca off at her apartment, the brunette could already feel the itching of another track embedding itself in her consciousness. She already had a sense of the foundation of the song, an upbeat sort of track.

She sat down in front of her equipment, taking comfort in the pieces in front of her. There were a lot of elements in what was flowing through her mind, a lot of different flavors. The concept she was pondering shouldn't have worked together, but as she laid the track down, working the effects, twiddling with levers and dials, it all came together in an unorthodox of sound and rhythm.

Beca pushed away from the computer, satisfied with what she had accomplished. It was still a rough take, a lot could be tweaked here and there, but she had her base, her foundation. Clicking on the file, she labeled it and dragged it over to the appropriate folder on her desktop.

Beca's head popped up as a knock sounded through her apartment. She moved to the living room and opened the door to find Jesse on the other side. He held up a stack of DVDs and a box of microwaveable popcorn. Beca shook her head frantically in the negative.

"Dude, no."

Jesse grinned, stepping over the threshold, nodding in time with Beca. "Dude, _yes_."

xxx-xxx-xxx

"I still don't get what's so great about this movie," Beca grumbled, huddled on her couch as she stared at her big television, Jesse beside her. On the screen, _The Breakfast Club_ played.

"How could you not?" Jesse looked completely incredulous. "This is latent social commentary at its finest, John Hughes at his best! This is the epitome of what was epic about the '80s."

"Yeah, not too big with teenage apathy," Beca drawled.

"Oh, but you're perfectly fine with your mid-twenties apathy," Jesse shot back.

"Of course," Beca argued. "By definition, everything is infinitely more annoying when attributed to the teenage years. Everything during this age span is only mildly exasperating."

Jesse's head wavered back and forth slowly, his mouth twisted into a sardonic grimace. "Your logic _astounds_ me."

Beca shrugged nonchalantly. "Get on my level, J."

Jesse snorted. "Whatever. I'll get on your level when you drop your balls and ask Chloe out."

Beca mirrored his snort. "You're imagining things."

"Like hell," Jesse refuted. "You're not the type of girl who is friends with girls, Beca, yet you and Chloe are _constantly_ together." He turned his head towards her. "The last time you were like this was Marissa Carrington, and we all remember how that ended up." Jesse's eyebrows shot skyward as he leveled a meaningful gaze to his companion.

"Face it, Beca, you're into her."

Beca's head lolled against the couch cushion. "Is it really that obvious?"

"If you had a dick, you'd be at full attention," Jesse affirmed.

Beca's nose wrinkled. "Geeze, dude."

"Why are you fighting it so hard?" Jesse posed. "What's so bad about being into Chloe?"

Beca sighed. "I'm not a relationship-type person, J. I've never had a real relationship with someone. I'm not really sure I know how to conduct myself in a relationship. Chloe deserves better than that. She deserves the person who will remember the birthdays and anniversaries, the person who knows how to do this kind of stuff."

"You want to know what I think about it?"

Beca snorted. "Not particularly."

"Well, I'm going to tell you anyway because you're my friend, and it's my duty to give you a kick in the ass every once in a while." Jesse took a deep breath. "You don't need to know how to do that stuff. I think when it comes to love, you gotta find the person who makes you willing to do the things you swore you'd never do. For you, I think that person's Chloe."

"Okay, say you're right," Beca still felt compelled to argue. "But that doesn't change the fact that I might screw this up, Jesse."

Jesse shrugged. "If you really think the person's worth it, you try your damn best not to. I guess you've got to ask yourself if Chloe's worth it."

"Of course she is," Beca muttered. "She's freakin' Chloe Beale. I swear when she farts, it's pure sunshine."

Jesse rolled his eyes. "Cute, dude. I suggest never, ever saying that to her." He slung an arm around Beca. "Look, Bee Sting, you've got a lot going for you! And it's not like Chloe likes you just because you're DJ Lady B. She likes you for you; plain ole Beca Mitchell; screwed up, closed-off, slightly cynical Beca Mitchell."

Astonishingly enough, Jesse's words actually provided her with some form of comfort. Beca relaxed, leaning against him. "Thanks, J."

"No problem." Jesse shoveled a handful of popcorn in his mouth. "I accept payment in the form of future connections and wingman duties."

Beca shook her head. "Whatever." She turned her attention back to the movie. She considered something as the characters moved across the screen. "I have a question."

Jesse flicked an eyebrow upward. "Okay…"

"What does Judd Nelson eat for breakfast?"

Jesse frowned, thinking about his answer for a moment before responding. "Well, like all misunderstood rebels, he feeds on hypocrisy."

"Right."

"And black coffee to help with his morning dumps."

Beca let out a bark of laughter. "Seriously, dude. You are an idiot."

Jesse scoffed. "Whatever, I'm full of fun facts."

"You should probably let someone else tell you they're fun," Beca remarked with a smirk.

"You're kind of more biting than you were at ten," Jesse commented, a playfully disgruntled look on his face.

Beca grinned. "There _is_ a reason you call me Bee Sting, Jesse," she reminded him.

Jesse laughed. "Man, I haven't thought about that in a long time…"

Beca shook her head. "I remember it like it was yesterday."

_** Beca opened the door to find her next door neighbor standing at the threshold, his curly hair almost out of control. He waved frantically.**_

_** "Hey, Beca."**_

_** "Hey, Jesse."**_

_** "Bee, who's at the door?" Beca heard her mom call from the inside.**_

_** "Jesse," she hollered back. "We're gonna go down to the park."**_

_** At her mother's permission, she slipped on her sneakers, making sure she had her keys. As she hopped down the driveway, the other boy, just a couple of years younger bouncing right behind her, he drew even with her strides.**_

_** "So your mom calls you 'Bee'?" he asked. **_

_** "Yup," Beca kicked at a rock, watching it skitter down the sidewalk. "It's short for Bumblebee," she explained. "When I was a kid, I was like super-hyper. She said I had way too much energy that I buzzed around like a bee."**_

_** "Bumblebee. That's, like, too cutesy for you," he commented.**_

_** Beca laughed. "What do you mean?"**_

_** Jesse stopped, rotating to the other girl. "Last Tuesday, you reduced Bobby Sherman into a blubbering mess **_**with your words**_**. You made him cry. Gary Klingman couldn't do that, and he's **_**punched**_** Bobby."**_

_** Beca grinned, and it was almost a scary sight. She looked way too pleased with herself reducing the schoolyard bully to a whimpering baby. "Okay, genius, do you think I should be called then?" Beca asked.**_

_** "Well…" Jesse thought about it for a moment. "It's not really the bee that people really are scared of, it's the stinger. You're kind of like that. You're chill until someone ticks you off, then you cut them down with your words. So you're not like the bumblebee, you're like the bee's sting." Jesse brightened. "Bee Sting. That's what I'll call you."**_

_** "Bee Sting…" Beca turned that over in her mind. "I like it."**_

_** Jesse grinned, holding out a fist that Beca tapped with a matching grin. "Awesome."**_

Jesse cocked his head. "Whatever happened to Bobby Sherman?"

Beca shrugged. "Dunno. Something tells me he never finished the third grade."

Jesse returned the shrug. "Wouldn't surprise me."

Inwardly, Beca laughed as they turned their attention back to Judd Nelson and company – well, Jesse did. She drew back into her thoughts. It never ceased to amaze her how some things really didn't change. She was still that prickly girl who often used cutting words and scathing quips to put others in their place. And Jesse Evans was still that goofy, dorky guy who lost himself in the wonders of movie magic.

xxx-xxx-xxx

"_Chloe_…"

Beca was whining. She didn't care. Beca bared her teeth at the back of the wavy red hair bobbing with the cadence of Chloe's gait as the senior tugged her along. "Why are you dragging me to the library?"

"Because you're the one that wanted to do work," Chloe reasoned, her grip secure on Beca's wrist. Beca half-heartedly squirmed, the displeasure clear on her face. "I'm trying to facilitate that desire."

"We could have studied in my apartment," Beca argued, seriously considering digging her heels in to slow Chloe's persistent momentum. "It's much more comfortable, and there are things like snacks and drinks and _music_…"

Chloe shook her head, still heading doggedly to the campus library. "No. There are _distractions_ at your apartment. The last time we studied there, you stopped after fifteen minutes to work on a track."

Beca shrugged. "I can't help it when inspiration hits," she pointed out. "Besides, we are talking about my livelihood."

"Yes, but you are enrolled as a student at Barden University," Chloe countered, "which means your classes also deserve some of your time. You are supposed to be working towards graduation, you know."

"D equals diploma!" Beca declared cheekily, echoing the common adage utilized in reference to the minimum GPA required to graduate. Her mischievous grin faded as Chloe stopped in her tracks, whirling around so quickly Beca was sure Chloe would be suffering from whiplash in the near future.

"You are _not_ going to graduate with a D-average," Chloe demanded fiercely.

Beca's eyes widened. "I was just joking."

Chloe stopped and rounded on the smaller girl, eyes sparkling with indignation, and a finger extended authoritatively, hovering beneath Beca's nose. "As hard as you try to portray otherwise, you are not stupid, Beca Mitchell, and I am not going let you half-ass your way through this year because of some vendetta against your dad." She poked her finger insistently into Beca's breastbone. "You're worth more than that."

Beca's mouth sagged open as she tried to formulate words. Finally, she closed her mouth and swallowed hard. Her eyes plummeted to the ground, and her voice grew as small as Chloe has ever heard from the other woman. "I don't think anyone's ever said something like that to me."

"Well, I'm telling you that right now." Chloe ducked her head to bring Beca's eyes to her. "You always talk about 'being different' and 'standing out'. You get a chance to be more than just that really successful DJ. You get to be a smart and educated, really successful DJ."

Beca could only stare as Chloe straightened, placing her fist on her hips, nodding resolutely, as though her word set in stone would guarantee everything she had just said.

"You're more than just 'DJ Lady B'," Chloe declared strongly. "Don't shortchange yourself."

Beca blinked, her jaw hinging open in awe. "I think I'm kind of in love with you right now."

"Duh." Chloe flipped her hair, taking Beca's wrist and continuing their jaunt, pulling the brunette to the library. "I'm awesome, simple as that."

xxx-xxx-xxx

For the second time in her life, Beca stepped across the threshold of the Fitzgerald C. Barden University Library – albeit a bit reluctantly as a rather insistent redhead had a vice grip on her wrist and wasn't deigned on letting go any time soon.

"See, now you've set foot in a library twice in your lifetime," Chloe cheerily as she navigated them to Chloe's regular spot. "Look at you expanding your horizons."

"You know, when I mentioned that the first time, you weren't supposed to take it as a challenge," Beca grumped, plopping her bag onto the table and slumping into the seat. "Like I said before, I could have gone through life wholly satisfied without the experience."

"Think of it as my civilizing you," Chloe corrected.

"The last time civilization was forced on a group of people, it ended up in genocide," Beca deadpanned.

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Seriously, the amount of knowledge in your brain is amazing. I have no idea why you choose not use it." She shrugged. "Alright, fine. Think of it as me helping you develop better study habits."

"I don't wanna develop better study habits," Beca mumbled petulantly as she unpacked her laptop. "I'm fine wallowing in my unsystematic ignorance."

Chloe merely laughed, setting up across from Beca, her side of the table already occupied with various textbooks, notebooks, and her laptop. "If you get good grades, this semester, I'll put your report card on the fridge."

Beca's nose wrinkled. "You suck at this motivational stuff."

She knew she was in trouble when Chloe's eyes twinkled. "Oh, Beca, you haven't been good enough to experience my motivational methods…"

Beca's mouth sagged open. "So hot," she mumbled, turning her attention to her laptop. The visual would not disappear. "So freakin' hot…"

xxx-xxx-xxx

Beca had to admit Chloe had something with this studying in the library stuff. She actually finished her assignments for her classes, had even read ahead, and was actually getting work done on her philosophy term paper. It was only one more sentence, but it was much further than she had gotten in their last few study sessions.

Now, Beca was battling with the screen of her laptop, her fists planted on either side of the keyboard, her dark blue eyes glaring at the scant words as though the intensity of her stare would generate a sentence on the laptop screen. Her head bobbed up as a soft giggle sounded from across the table.

"What?" Beca grumbled.

"Sorry," Chloe apologized. "You just look so frustrated. It's kind of cute."

Beca's nose wrinkled in protest. "I'm not cute."

"You're tiny," Chloe pointed out. "It's obligatory that you're described as cute."

Beca shook her head. "I don't understand why size is an automatic designation to cute."

Chloe laughed. "I'm sorry. Did I offend your badass DJ sensibilities?"

"No," Beca mumbled, her voice just shy of petulant. She huffed out a sigh, letting her head fall forward onto the table. "I'm sorry, I'm just frustrated."

"With what?"

"This stupid term paper." Beca waved a hand to her laptop. "Who gives a one-word prompt?! Honestly…"

"Oh!" Chloe nodded knowingly. "You must be talking about the term paper for Dr. Graham's Intro class."

"Yeah, actually." Beca glanced up at Chloe. "Have you taken it?"

"No, but I know a lot of people who have." Chloe tapped her pen on her notebook. "Apparently, however you choose to answer the prompt is supposed to tell you a lot about yourself."

Beca snorted. "So what's my indecision telling me about me?"

Chloe shrugged. "Maybe that there's more to you than you think?" She set aside her books and notes.

"Let's take a break," she suggested. "Rest your brain."

Beca shoved her laptop away. "Gladly." She leaned back in her chair. "I've got a question."

"Shoot," Chloe encouraged.

"What the hell is this Riff-Off everyone's talking about?"

"Ah…" Chloe nodded knowingly. "Did Jesse mention it?"

"Yeah." Beca ran a hand through her hair. "He made it seem like it was something huge."

"It kinda is," Chloe divulged. "Besides ICCA's, this is kind of the big inter-group competition," she explained. "Justin and Tommy are the organizers, so it's something you can participate in. It's really more for a pride standpoint."

"Okay, so it's all the groups competing against each other?"

Chloe nodded. "It's kind of like a game show. Basically, the groups sing songs within a category, and you can jump in with another song as long as you match a word in a lyric. The point is to be the last group singing, essentially."

"We don't normally do too well with it," Chloe admitted.

"Is it a big deal?"

Chloe chuckled at Beca's ignorance. "Oh, you have no idea."

xxx-xxx-xxx

As the evening of the Riff-Off drew upon them, Beca conceded that yes, she really had no idea just how big of a deal the Riff-Off was to the Barden a cappella community.

Beca's head swiveled as she took in the scope of this event. Beyond the other Barden a cappella groups, there was a surprising hoard of Barden students gathered around the empty pool, the drinks flowing freely. Justin made his way to the center of the pool, arms spread wide as he welcomed them all to the Riff-Off to the roaring cheers from the groups and the surrounding onlookers. He pointed what looked like a remote control towards the pool wall, projecting what looked like a game show wheel onto the stone surface. A press of his thumb, and the wheel spun for a few seconds, the pointer landing on "Ladies of the '80s".

Aubrey's face lit up, and she ran forward, only to be intercepted as Bumper dashed forward, Donald, Unicycle, Jesse, behind him. Toni Basil's "Mickey" tumbled from his mouth seconds before Aubrey offered up whatever song she had ready.

_Oh, Mickey, you're so fine!  
You're so fine, you blow my mind  
Hey, Mickey!  
Hey, hey, hey, Mickey!_

_Oh, Mickey, you're so – _

Beca cocked an eyebrow in amusement as Barb jumped in, the rest of the Harmonics following. To absolutely no one's surprise, Madonna's '80s classic resonating through the empty pool.

_You're so fine and you're mine  
I'll be yours 'till the end of time  
'Cause you made me feel  
Yeah, you made me feel  
So shiny and new_

_Like a virgin  
Touched for the very first time  
Like a virgin_

Aubrey slid in, cutting the Harmonics off, Fat Amy providing backup – and a rather convincing air guitar solo. The rest of the Bellas fell in line with their trademark sound.

_Like the one in me  
That's okay  
Let's see how you do it  
Put up your dukes  
Let's get down to it_

_Hit me with your best shot  
Why don't you hit me with your best shot  
Hit me with your best shot  
Fire away_

As Beca kept watching, she a sense of what the Riff-Off was. She had to admit this was definitely an interesting event. She grinned as the High Notes were disqualified or "Cut off!" in Riff-Off lingo. This was rather entertaining, and it was clear to see why this event drew so many people. Justin whipped out his remote-thingy, pointing it again to the wall. This time – apparently, much to Aubrey's chagrin – "Songs About Sex" was the next category.

Cynthia Rose pushed forward just ahead of Donald, Stacie strutting in behind her.

_Na na na  
Come on_

_Na na na na na  
Come on  
Come on  
Come on_

'_Cause I may be bad, but I'm perfectly good at it  
Sex in the air, I don't care, I love the smell of it  
Sticks and stones may break my bones  
But chains and whips excite me _

'_Cause I may be bad, but I'm perfectly good at it  
Sex – _

Unable to stand idly, Donald cut the girls off, the challenge clear in his posture as he faced down the busty brunette. Aubrey stepped forward, pulling Stacie away.

_Sex, baby  
Let's talk about you and me  
Let's talk about all the good things and the bad things that may be  
Let's talk about sex_

_Let's talk about sex, baby – _

Unwilling to be deterred, Stacie jumped back in with a surprising Boyz II Men melody. Beca grinned. It was almost rapid-fire the way the groups were jumping in and out of the category. One definitely had to have a vast knowledge of songs for this to work, and the rest of the group had to pick it up quickly for the melody to reach its full potential.

_Baby, all through the night  
I'll make love to you  
Like you want me to  
And I – _

Jesse stepped forward, halting Stacie's unexpectedly mellow ballad as he channeled Lou Gramm and Foreigner at its finest.

_And I guess it's just the woman in you  
That brings out the man in me_

Jesse leveled a finger at Beca, the challenge clear in his narrowed eyes and slightly tilted head. She returned the gesture, arms crossed, not willing to play into his game. He spread his arms, daring her almost encyclopedic knowledge of music, goading her to try and cut him off with her own offering.

_I know I can't help myself_

_You're all in the world to me_

Beca merely chuckled, blowing him a sardonic kiss. Jesse grinned, getting into the song, the rest of the group harmonizing behind him.

_It feels like the first time  
Feels like the very first time  
It feels like the first time  
It feels like the very first time_

_It – _

Unable to help herself any longer, Beca scurried forward, planting herself in front of the Trebles, spitting out her best imitation of Dr. Dre. The quickly-delivered vocals shocked the boys into silence.

_It's going down, fade to Blackstreet  
The homies got RB, collab' creations  
Bump like acne, no doubt  
I put it down, never slouch  
As long as my credit can vouch  
A dog couldn't catch me ass out_

Beca could freely admit she wasn't the best rapper – there were hundreds of other people who possessed more flow than she did – but she felt emboldened by the element of surprise that came with the first verse of "No Diggity", courtesy of Dr. Dre, flowing from her mouth.

Jesse and the Treblemakers looked absolutely stunned and retreated almost reflexively when she brushed them back with a flick of her wrists.

_Tell me who can stop when Dre making moves  
Attracting honeys like a magnet  
Giving 'em eargasms with my mellow accent  
Still moving this flavor  
With the homies Blackstreet and Teddy  
The original rump shakers_

Beca rotated back to the rest of the Bellas. It seemed as though she had even stumped her own group as a mass of mystified face greeted her. Beca stood in the center of the pool, arms extended, waiting for someone to help her out. When she received nothing but blank stares – Aubrey comically mouthing 'Rump shakers?' with an utterly baffled look on her face – Beca huffed, her arms dropping to her sides.

Raising her voice, the disgruntled expression reflected in her posture, Beca sang the first verse of the chorus, hoping to jog _someone's_ memory.

_Shorty get down, good Lord  
Baby got 'em up open all over town_

Much to her immense relief, Fat Amy was the first one to recognize the song, jumping in to lend her voice to Beca's. As Amy joined her, Beca could see Chloe in the back, organizing a quick arrangement, and soon enough, more voices followed.

_Strictly biz, she don't play around  
Cover much ground, got game by the pound  
_

_Getting paid is a forte  
Each and every day, true player way  
I can't get her out of my mind  
I think about the girl all the time_

The rest of the Bellas flocked around her, harmonizing effortlessly, their arrangement tight and precise despite its spontaneous creation. Beca couldn't help but feel proud at the spark she lit beneath her group. They brought a different energy with this song, playing into every guilty pleasure any music lover ever harbored, loose and relaxed in a way that never manifested itself in their strict Bellas performances.

_I like the way you work it  
No diggity, I got to bag it up_

_Hey-yo, hey-yo, hey-yo, hey-yo_

More voices swelled from the perimeter of the pool, joining together and chiming in with the hook from the bridge. Beca rotated around the pool, egging on the spectators with a wave of her arms. Even the other a cappella groups added their voices, first the Harmonics, then the High Notes, the masses causing the volume to swell around the empty pool.

_I like the way you work it  
No diggity, I got to bag it up_

Beca brought the Bellas together in one last round of the chorus before throwing the knockout punch definitively.

_We out._

Roars of approval flew from the students orbiting the pool, voicing their opinion to the winners of this year's Riff-Off. The Bellas whooped and cheered, reveling in their triumph. Never before had they invigorated the crowd to this extent, never before had their performances prompted this amount of applause, this level of approval. Whatever joy they felt was immediately quashed, however, as Justin ruled that Beca's incorrect matching of 'it' with 'it's' disqualified the Bellas, leaving the Treblemakers in possession of the coveted Hoobastank microphone.

As the Trebles celebrated their win by technicality, Beca surged forward, the outrage radiating from her posture.

"Bullshit!" she declared, lunging towards Justin. Chloe pursued right behind her, just in case. Beca looked mad enough to throw out a few haymakers. She looked so miniscule compared to the other boy, it was almost comical if not for the fierce look of indignation adorning Beca's features.

"'It's' is a contraction of 'it is'," she argued. "Like hell I didn't match the word! 'It's' wouldn't _exist_ without 'it'! "

"Beca, let it go." Chloe urged her away, even as the brunette continued to shout abuse to Justin, even going so far as to wave a tiny fist to the emcee. "Easy there, killer, it's not gonna count against us for anything."

"It's still bullshit," Beca grumbled, shooting another dirty glare to the emcee. "This thing is fixed!" she hollered out as a parting shot.

"If he is even thinking of entering the music business, I swear to whatever higher power he believes in, I'm blacklisting him from any job his pea brain could even think of wanting," Beca mumbled under her breath.

They joined the rest of the Bellas, huddled around Aubrey, casting dirty glances over to the celebrating Trebles.

"Guys, that was amazing," Beca enthused. "We sounded awesome! Did you hear that crowd?"

"We lost," Aubrey reminded her.

"Yeah, but we learned something," Beca countered. "Think about how awesome we sounded with modern music and in a spontaneous setting. If our setlist–"

"Okay, enough." Aubrey looked to the rest of the girls. "We have a lot to work on. I'll see you all at the next rehearsal." She stuck her hand out. "'Aaah!' on three."

"_On_ three or _after_ three?" Stacie interjected.

"On three," Cynthia Rose clarified.

"After…after three," came another opinion. "One, two, three…"

"That's not how we do it," Aubrey refuted.

"Why can't we figure this out?" Stacie groaned.

As the rest of the Bellas debated exactly when the "Aaah" should commence, Beca caught Chloe's eye. A glance passed between the two, and it was clear the message was very well received.

xxx-xxx-xxx

The events of the Riff-Off stayed in Beca's head for a couple of days after. Not so much the outcome, but what the Bellas were able to do in such a spontaneous, uninhibited setting. It only fueled her belief that there was tons of untapped potential in that group, just waiting to be released. There was a lot she could work with…if only Aubrey would allow it…

As Beca descended down to the basement of the student union to grab some food, she scanned the tables for a seat. Grabbing her burger and fries, she noticed a familiar blonde head at a table in the corner.

Beca debated with herself for a long moment before rotating and approaching Aubrey. She pasted on a friendly smile, gesturing down to the empty seat.

"Mind if I join you?"

Aubrey surveyed her for a moment before shrugging. "Suit yourself."

Beca plopped down, spreading her lunch across the table. "Whatcha working on?" she mumbled around the burger.

Aubrey's eyes flicked up to her before they settled back down on her notebook, the blonde's elegant hand scrawling a sentence on the paper. "A case summary of _Miranda v. Arizona_," she mumbled.

Beca nodded. "That's case that led to the requirement that the police inform an arrested person of his rights under the Fifth and Sixth Amendments. Sweet."

Aubrey's head snapped up, her jaw dropping in surprise. "How do you know that?"

Beca shrugged. "Something I picked up somewhere. Besides, everyone's heard someone being Mirandized on TV." She gestured to the heavy book Aubrey's eyes kept scanning over. "So…constitutional law." Beca cocked an eyebrow. "Not exactly light bedtime reading, is it?"

"No way," Aubrey shook her head. "I'm pretty sure I've seen encyclopedia volumes thinner than this textbook."

Beca let out a bark of laughter at the unexpectedly funny quip coming from the normally stringent blonde. "So she has a sense of humor…" she teased. Beca gestured to the textbook. "Do you like it?"

Aubrey shrugged. "I get through it."

"That's not a ringing endorsement," Beca remarked.

Aubrey scoffed, placing her pen down, leveling a pointed look at Beca. "I'm a Posen," she explained. "Essentially, I am relegated to two options of study: law or business. Leland J. Posen's daughter cannot settle for less." Aubrey shrugged, leaning back in her seat. "I picked law."

"Because you don't get to argue in business?" Beca ventured.

Aubrey smirked wryly. "More because I'm horrible at math."

"So why join the Bellas?" Beca couldn't help but ask. "I mean, this doesn't seem like it would be something your dad would find worthwhile."

Aubrey's face softened, and Beca couldn't help but marvel at the change. She really was pretty, slightly manic disposition aside.

"It wasn't," Aubrey admitted. "Until he heard there was a competitive aspect to it, a chance for national recognition." She snorted. "Just another way for the Posen name to demonstrate its excellence."

Beca's eyebrows creeped skyward. "Sounds rough."

Aubrey shrugged nonchalantly, but Beca could see the melancholy reflected in the jade green eyes. "It is what it is. He can think whatever he wants, the Bellas make me happy either way."

"My dad's the same," Beca offered. "He thinks DJ-ing is a hobby, not a career. Doesn't matter how I see it."

Aubrey cocked her head in genuine curiosity. "Has that stopped you?"

Beca snorted. "Yeah, right. To hell with him. He wasn't around, he doesn't get to have a say what I do with my life."

Aubrey sighed ruefully. "It's not that easy for me."

Beca surveyed the blonde, noticed the way her hands fidgeted with her pen. She wasn't sure what compelled her to do so, but she offered out a word of comfort. "Maybe one day it will be."

Aubrey smiled morosely. "Maybe." She glanced down at her watch, noting the time. "I have to get to class." Gathering her things, she stood. "See you at rehearsals."

"Bye."

As Aubrey walked away, Beca had a distinct feeling she had just understood a little bit more about the Bella captain.

xxx-xxx-xxx

"Hi!"

Coming out of her last class of the day, Beca jumped as Chloe materialized out of nowhere latched onto her arm. "Geeze!" She glared playfully at the redhead. "Do I need to put a bell on you or something?"

"Kinky."

Beca rolled her eyes. "Hey, Chloe."

"Whatcha doin?"

Beca threw out her lopsided grin, noting that the redhead was especially bouncy. "Nothin'," she played along. "Done for the day, just looking to chill, maybe work on some tracks…"

Chloe turned towards her but didn't say anything, merely beamed brightly.

Beca's grin twisted wryly. "I'm gonna take a stab in the dark and fathom you would like to join me in whatever I end up doing."

Chloe nodded eagerly. "Please? I like hanging out with you," she declared, practically skipping as she tugged Beca along. Chloe stopped suddenly, causing Beca to crash into her back.

The smaller girl grunted. "Seriously, Chlo, you need to come with warning lights."

"You know what," Chloe whirled, a big smile on her face. "Let's go to mine."

"Is Aubrey going to be there?" Beca deadpanned.

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Just come on."

"I'm determined to figure out how to say no to you," Beca commented absently as Chloe towed her along once again.

"How's that going for you?"

"Current circumstances indicate a miserable fail," Beca responded ruefully. "I'm inclined to agree."

xxx-xxx-xxx

"Make yourself at home," Chloe offered, hanging up her coat. "I know it's not quite what you're used to."

"You mean you don't have your own butler and maid service?" Beca threw her head back with a loud groan. "I'm _so_ disappointed, Chloe."

Chloe stuck her tongue out at the other woman, reaching out to poke Beca in the side. The brunette wriggled away with a squeak as Chloe found her ticklish spot.

"Hey! No damaging the merchandise."

Chloe giggled, shaking her head. "You are so losing badass points the more I hang around with you."

Beca tossed her head playfully. "You can't change something innate," she informed the redhead, plopping down on the couch with a grin. She craned her head up at Chloe.

"So what do you want to do?"

"I want to know about you," Chloe answered honestly, descending down on the couch beside Beca. "Not the stuff that you say in interviews or stuff the public knows through your Wikipedia page. I want to know about Beca Mitchell, the woman."

Beca grinned, glancing sideways at her companion. "I dunno," she hedged playfully. "You might not be ready for the _real_ Beca Mitchell."

Chloe pouted. "Please?"

"Honestly?" Beca shrugged. "There's not that much to me."

"That's not true," Chloe argued, turning to face Beca. "I refuse to believe that's all there is to you. Take music. How did you grow to love music?"

Beca's face softened into a nostalgic smile as the memories filtered into her conscious mind. "My mom loved music," she murmured. "She and I always used to cuddle up in the armchair in our den and just listen to old records."

"What kind of records?" Chloe asked.

Beca shrugged. "Everything. From The Temptations to Dizzy Gillespie to Beethoven to Ravi Shankar." Beca sobered, her smile turning more melancholy. "Before she died, she made me promise to finish college."

"Is that why you're here?"

Beca nodded. "Yup. I got four years to chase my dream in LA before I had to do four years finishing a college degree."

"That's why you said your word is why you're here," Chloe recalled from one of their first conversations.

"Yup."

Chloe's brow furrowed as she thought about what else she wanted to know about the slightly enigmatic DJ. "Okay…what about your nickname?"

Beca cocked her head. "What are you talking about?"

"When Jesse sees you, he always calls you 'Bee Sting'," Chloe clarified. "Where did that come from?"

"Ah…" Beca's face relaxed into an indulgent smile tinged with nostalgia. "Well, again, it all starts with my mom. When I was a kid, I was kind of off-the-wall, always full of energy, definitely not the type to sit still. She said that I was always buzzing around, like a bumblebee."

"That's cute. I can totally see that."

Beca nodded. "Yeah. So my mom always called me Bumblebee. Jesse was my next door neighbor, and when he first heard that, he said that it didn't fit me. He said that it's not really the bee that people really are scared of, it's the bee's stinger."

"He sure was philosophical as a kid," Chloe commented.

"Well, Jesse was always kind of like that," Beca divulged. "Anyway, he said I was like that. He said I was mellow until someone pissed me off, then I'm like the angry bee with the stinger ready to strike. That's where Bee Sting comes from."

"See?" Chloe poked at Beca. "You have such great stories behind everything in your life. You're extraordinary," Chloe asserted. "And what makes it even better is that someone would never know you're famous; you're so low-key."

"You sure think highly of me," Beca commented.

"Why not?" Chloe posed. "I don't see why I shouldn't. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt until you prove me wrong."

"Isn't that dangerous?" Beca asked. "I mean, people could really hurt you that way."

"Maybe," Chloe acknowledged, "But, you know what they say, 'Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.'"

"And there never is a twice, is there?"

"Nope." Chloe shook her head. "It's hard to earn my trust back after you've lost it."

Beca nodded. "Noted."

She really was amazing, Beca decided. Chloe practically radiated optimism in all facets of her life, and it was so infectious, even to someone like Beca. She served as Chloe's stark contrast in that regard. If Beca Mitchell was optimistic in any manner, it was only in the inevitable existence of pessimism. From their very first meeting, Chloe had never ceased to amaze her, but the eternal pessimist in Beca couldn't help but wonder when the other shoe was going to drop. Where was the chink in the armor of this amazing, alluring being?

Still, as she thought back to that first meeting and the subsequent later interactions, Beca chuckled, and Chloe grinned.

"What?"

"I was thinking about when we met and what happened after," Beca divulged. Her chuckles turned to a full-blown laugh. "I still can't believe you told me 'Titanium' was your lady jam."

Chloe giggled. "What? It was supposed to loosen you up so that you could be more comfortable with me."

"By admitting you masturbated to that song?" Beca shook her head incredulously. "Believe me, Chlo, that did the complete opposite."

Chloe's mouth dropped open. "Beca Mitchell, did you visualize me lady-jamming?"

"What did you expect?" Beca defended. "You put it out there! You've got to know that's exactly where my mind went."

Chloe couldn't stop the belly laugh from bursting out of her. "You're such a perv!"

"Says the one who busted into my shower," Beca shot back.

"You're gonna hold that over me forever, aren't you?" Chloe shook her head, her face bright red from her laughter. "I can't believe you pictured me doing that."

Beca grinned wolfishly. "Pretty awesome visual, if you ask me. Wasn't the only place my mind went."

Chloe's eyes narrowed. "Please tell me you didn't visualize us having sex."

"Why not? We were naked! In a shower! And you know I think you're hot."

Chloe blushed. "Yeah, you've mentioned it. But that wasn't my intention when I busted in. I wanted to recruit you," Chloe reminded her. "I insisted you sing with me."

"Yeah," Beca conceded, "But that doesn't mean my mind didn't automatically go there. Normally when I'm naked in a shower with another woman, there's a different type of harmony involved."

"I'm starting to think this isn't the first time a naked woman busted into your shower," Chloe remarked.

Beca shook her head. "I'm so pleading the fifth on that one."

"Okay," Chloe surrendered the point. "But you have to have a song like that. You know, a song that gets you in the mood."

"Well, it's not my 'lady jam' but it is close." Beca moved to Chloe's speakers, taking out her phone and plugging it into the system.

"What _is_ it for?"

Beca scrolled for a bit before finding the right track, tapping her finger against the screen. "Lady lovin…"

Chloe's eyebrows shot skyward as a mellow, sensual melody began to play. Beca grinned, pulling the redhead to her feet.

_Lay your head on my pillow  
Lay your head on my pillow  
Lay it down  
Lay it down  
Lay it down  
Oh lay it down  
Lay your head on my pillow, yeah  
_

Beca pulled Chloe to her, her mellow voice wrapping around the lyrics to the song. She rotated around the redhead, palms framing Chloe's hips as they swayed to the beat. Chloe drew in a sharp intake of breath as Beca's voice floated through her ear, her lips practically caressing the skin of her lobe.

_I ain't Casanova  
Me and Romeo ain't never been friends  
But tonight, girl I'ma show you how much I love you  
Let the party begin_

_I'ma do something I never did to you, girl  
I'ma turn you out, I'll show you a new you, girl  
Tell your friends you ain't coming out tonight  
Wrap your hair girl, tie it up tonight  
_

They moved together, the curve of Chloe's ass pressed snugly into the cradle of Beca's thighs. The heat from the point of contact between them resonated outward. Hips rolled together, grinding sensually to the beat, Beca's smooth, sensual voice lending itself to the atmosphere.

Chloe could feel everything between them, the press of Beca's body against her back, the slight clenching of her fingers on Chloe's hips, the hot breath against her ear. Everything Beca was doing sent a shockwave of fire surging through each pore of her body, centered around that singing voice that had drawn her in from the beginning.

_Oh lay, oh lay, oh lay_  
_Oh lay, oh lay, oh lay_  
_Oh lay, oh lay, oh lay, ooh ooh_  
_Oh lay, oh lay, oh lay, ooh ooh_  
_Your head down girl_

Inwardly, Beca battled with herself, urging herself to stay respectable around the magnetic redhead. Everything about Chloe was so hypnotic, so attractive, it was hard to stay away, so hard not to give in to her more carnal urges. As they moved in their sexy rhythm, Chloe's shirt rode up, and the pads of Beca's fingertips came into contact with soft, golden skin.

Chloe whirled around in her arms, placing them front to front, hips still moving as they swayed. Beca nearly groaned as a different set of curves pressed into her, her thigh slipping between Chloe's, her palms sliding around to cup Chloe's ass. Beca's head tilted up as Chloe's tilted down, their nose brushing one another, practically sharing a breath. Chloe's big blue eyes bore into hers, searching and sparkling with desire. It would be so easy to breach that gap between them, to capture those bow-shaped lips in hers. God, she would bet her turntables Chloe was an amazing kisser.

It would be so easy just to…

"Chloe! I'm home!"

The two jumped apart just as Aubrey entered the apartment. She stopped short as she noticed the other occupant of the room.

"Oh, Beca. Hi. I didn't know you were here." The blonde's eyes narrowed as she observed her two companions, taking in their flushed appearances, the final strands of the song fading into silence.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing," Beca grinned innocently. "Just talking music."

Aubrey's eyes reflected potent suspicion as they flicked from Chloe to Beca. The redhead had yet to fully compose herself, her breath still coming in ragged gasps, her cheeks still tinged with red.

"Right."

Whatever goodwill Beca had accrued concerning Aubrey vanished right then and there.

_Okay, okay…I admit that one was a little mean…I'm sorry. Next chapter, we bring in Art, Beca's stepdad, and it's time for a little bit of celebration with Thanksgiving and Beca's birthday coming up. And, of course, the Bellas hit Regionals…but as this is an AU, things are a bit different._

_Hope you enjoyed this one! The songs used that you might not recognize outside of the Riff-Off are "Changes" by David Bowie, "This is How We Do It" by Montell Jordan, and "Lay It Down" by Lloyd, written by Ester Dean. As usual, thanks to CJ (CJersey82), the other half of the team. I look forward to hearing what you all think of this one! Let me know here on FFN, Tumblr, or Twitter, whichever you prefer. Until the next installment…_

_*ISP_


	5. Chapter 5

_Sigh…you guys all give me squiddy feels. I love this fandom. It's much safer than others out in the Net. I must say though, the cast of Pitch Perfect needs to stop being flawless and awesome so my life can be much more productive._

_In this chapter, we have Beca's birthday, Thanksgiving, and Regionals. And I'm sure I'm teasing you more, but where's the fun if it was all easy?! Have fun!_

* * *

CHAPTER 5

_Now the runway lights are fading,  
With the darkness overtaking,  
I'll leave you standing watching all alone  
From that paneglass window one million miles away  
And I'm sorry when I tell you  
That I'm coming back someday_

_Because I'm leaving what I know behind,_  
_And I'm living out my chance to shine_  
_Like the stars now fading from your eyes_  
_And I hope you'll understand_

The hardest thing Beca had ever done was leaving home. Between her mother's death and the fact that Art was really the only family left, she had clung to her stepfather, her anchor for stability. Even as she packed her bags, the excitement towards chasing her dreams battled with her insecurities as she faced the world of Los Angeles with Art all the way back in Brooklyn.

As it turned out, her fears were just that, fears. They never came to fruition. Because even though the entire United States separated them, Art was always there, just as he always was. Because no matter what, Art knew Beca would always make her way back to him.

xxx-xxx-xxx

As the month of November hit Barden, Beca could feel the pangs of homesickness resonate even stronger than they had previously. It wasn't so much a longing for the familiarity of her LA loft, but rather one for the constant companionship of accustomed faces like those of Jules or Art. One of the things she missed was most was the perpetual presence of her stepfather and his everlasting support, and as her birthday dawned earlier in the month, Beca couldn't help but miss him even more.

Beca's head lolled towards the door as a knock sounded. Hefting herself from the couch, she twisted the knob to find Chloe on the other side.

The redhead threw her hands in the air, blowing through a party horn. "Happy birthday!" As Beca simply stared at Chloe, nothing but impassive amusement reflected on her face, Chloe cocked an eyebrow. "You're not excited. Why aren't you excited? It's your birthday!"

Beca shrugged, stepping back to let Chloe and the big bag she left beside her in. "Never really been big on birthdays."

"I despair for you," Chloe deadpanned, plopping the bag on the coffee table.

Beca shrugged again. "It's no big deal. Just another day, really." At Chloe's completely horrified expression, Beca tried to explain.

"I mean, like the label and some people make a fuss. I've had some of those crazy parties at a nightclub or whatever, but I'm not really one to celebrate it unless I have to."

"Beca! It's the day you appeared in this world! It's not just another day. Without this day, there is no Beca Middle Name Mitchell!" Chloe tilted her head. "What is your full name, anyway?"

"Rebeca Kay Mitchell," Beca answered. "Kay is my grandmother on my mom's side."

"That's cute," Chloe commented.

"Not when it's being used because I'm in trouble," Beca returned. She shuddered as she remembered all the times her mother's screech of "_Rebeca Kay Mitchell_!" rang through the house – which usually proceeded some epic crash that had resulted in something expensive breaking. It was nothing out of the ordinary, really. Just Bumblebee Beca bouncing off the walls. Still, Beca hated when that voice came out and her full name was expelled at that decibel. Nothing could stop little Beca in her tracks quicker, and absolutely nothing was scarier than a Mom Lecture.

"Well, you're not in trouble," Chloe assured her with a wry grin. "Quite the opposite, in fact. Lucky for you, I have planned an amazing mini-celebration for us to revel in your existence."

Beca chuckled. "Wow, you really know how to make a girl feel good, don't you?"

Chloe shrugged. "I really wouldn't put it past you that I'm the only one at Barden besides Jesse who knows when your birthday is."

Beca huffed, throwing her arms out in concession. "Alright, Beale, I give. What is this celebration you have for me?"

"Well, it's certainly not a birthday without cake, so here." Chloe rummaged in her bag, pulling out a cupcake – red velvet, Beca's favorite – a single candle buried in the icing. She withdrew a disposable lighter, holding the flame to the wick.

"Make a wish."

Beca grinned, shaking her head. Leaning forward, she obligingly blew out the candle to Chloe's cheers and another toot of the party horn.

"What did you wish for?" Chloe asked.

"Nuh-uh." Beca wagged a finger. "Even I know what happens when you say a wish out loud."

Chloe pouted. "Party pooper."

Beca shook her head. "It's my party, and I'll decline if I want to."

Chloe grinned, rummaging into her bag. "Fine, then." She withdrew a small, wrapped box. "And, of course, a present."

Beca's smile softened as she cradled the gift. "Chloe, you didn't have to."

Chloe shrugged. "No, but I wanted to." She bounced in excitement. "I hope you like it."

Beca ripped open the paper. She found a scrapbook nestled within, the cover proclaiming the date and her name.

"Chloe…" Beca's voice gentled to a reverent whisper as she flipped through pages. On each meticulously decorated page, there was a smattering of photos chronicling her first months at Barden. She grinned at the shots featuring many of the Bellas, one of her favorites being a picture of her and Chloe, the redhead beaming at the camera, her hands thrown over her head while Beca merely stared straight ahead, her best disinterested deadpan look on her face.

Beca laughed. "This is great."

Chloe grinned. "I noticed you didn't have a lot of pictures, and I thought you'd like something like that."

Beca cradled the album to her chest, her eyes suspiciously shiny. "This is amazing, Chloe. Thank you. I've never really been much for keeping pictures or putting them up."

Chloe grinned. "Everyone deserves to know they mean something to someone. Birthdays are just the easiest way."

Beca smiled, looking at the mini-party that had just commenced. "I could start liking birthdays," she declared.

Chloe beamed. "That's the plan."

xxx-xxx-xxx

As the rest of November flew by, the pressure of Regionals began to loom more urgently for the Bellas, bringing Aubrey into a state of almost manic obsession. Luckily – for all their sakes – the Thanksgiving holiday broke up the endless string of rehearsals, allowing them all some breathing room.

As Beca sat in on the final rehearsal before the break, she frowned, watching the group perform. Forget about how tired the track was or how the song made her want to fall asleep; there was a different air about Chloe. Her smiles seemed forced, her laughs less melodic, and her vivacity less…vivid.

As Chloe labored to hit the notes for the song, Amy gasped, struggling to hold the end formation. "I should have taken that cardio tip more seriously."

Aubrey frowned, abandoning her position and rounding to the front of the group. She took a swig of her water bottle. "How much have you done?"

Amy dropped the pose and hefted herself to her feet. "You just saw it."

Surprisingly, Aubrey's resulting chuckle was indulgent as she shook her head. Aubrey turned to Chloe, her expression shifting from amusement to one torn with concern and mild frustration. "Chloe, you've got to hit that last note."

"I can't," Chloe insisted. "I'm sorry, Aubrey, but it's just not possible. I'm straining as is. You've got to give the solo to someone else." Chloe leveled a significant look to Aubrey, tilting her head towards the final member of the Bellas.

Aubrey rolled her eyes, but obliged, turning to appeal to the brunette lounging to the side. "Beca, what did you think?"

"I'm sorry," Beca drawled stretching her arms over her head as she yawned. "I couldn't hear anything beyond the roar of boredom in my ears."

"That's not helpful," Aubrey chastised, her hands thrust onto her hips.

"Of course it's helpful," Beca argued. "If that's what _I_ think about it, you can be certain it's going to be what the audience is going to experience as well, not to mention the judges." Beca shuffled to her feet. "If you'd let me show you an arrangement I was working on–"

"Absolutely not," Aubrey was quick to shut her down.

"Maybe Beca's right," Chloe piped up, her voice hoarse from rehearsal. "Maybe we should think about changing things up."

Aubrey's head snapped to Chloe, eyes wide with incredulity. "Aca-scuse me?"

Beca stepped in, deflecting Aubrey's ire her way. "Look, I'm just saying the song's tired. We're never going to win with it. If we start pulling samples from different genres–"

"Look, it's decided," Aubrey cut her off. "We are going to stick with the setlist we have. We are singing 'Turn the Beat Around' and that's all I want to hear about it."

Beca rolled her eyes, lofting her hands in surrender. "Fine. Last thing, though." She gestured to Chloe. "I really don't think Chloe should solo. No offense, Chlo, but it's sounding painful, and not just to you."

Chloe snorted, shaking her head. "None taken. You're right."

"Fine." Aubrey turned to Amy. "Fat Amy, you'll solo."

"Yes." Amy traced the heart on her shirt, pointing to Aubrey in satisfaction. "_Yes_. Awwwww yeah. Fat Amy bringing the awesome."

Even Aubrey couldn't fight her amusement from peeking through. "Alright, I'm going to call it, everyone. Make sure you keep up with your vocal exercises over the break."

Beca turned away, high-fiving Amy with a grin as the Tasmanian celebrated her solo. She bumped hips with Chloe as the redhead began packing up her stuff.

"Nice try."

Chloe sent her a wavering smile and a shrug. "Just have to keep plugging along, I guess."

Beca grinned, leading the redhead towards the exit. "C'mon, Benedict Arnold, let's get some coffee."

Fat Amy poked Beca as they passed. "Any tips?"

Beca grinned with a wink. "Make it memorable."

xxx-xxx-xxx

The day before Thanksgiving, Beca bounced on the balls of her feet as she waited for Art to appear. It had been a while since she had seen her stepfather face-to-face, and she couldn't wait to spend the holiday with him. She had run the idea of spending Thanksgiving with the Beales by Art, and he was surprisingly excited at the prospect. Not quite as surprising, Chloe held just as much excitement as Art did.

As Art's head of closely-trimmed brown hair appeared, hovering over everyone, Beca waved frantically.

Arthur Landry was not a small guy. He also wasn't a guy who was ever idle, and it showed in his large body and compact muscle. His lofty, six-and-a-half-foot frame parted the crowds easily, spotting his stepdaughter as she rocked up on her toes to see over the mass of people.

Uncharacteristically, Beca squealed, running towards her stepdad, launching herself at him. Art laughed, dropping his bag and catching Beca on his strong shoulder. He spun her around, delighting in the giggles that flew from his stepdaughter, a sound he hadn't head in a long time.

He set her down, wrapping her in a bear hug. "Bumblebee!" He held her out at arms' length. "Looks like someone's surviving her first semester of college." He perused her. "No visible bruises. All important limbs still intact…"

"Just barely," Beca grumbled, hanging from his raised arm as she swung from his bicep like she was a kid. "Dunno if I'll take the music industry over college to be honest."

"You actually learning anything, Bee?" Art chided her, green eyes twinkling as he slung an arm around her neck and ruffled her hair. "Or you just raising hell and pissing off your old man?"

Beca snorted, swatting at his hand. "I'm learning stuff." She smirked in a way that had always put Art on edge, mostly because it meant Beca had gotten into something she really shouldn't. "I'm learning that my dad really doesn't get me."

"Cut him some slack, munchkin," Art remarked, folding her forward in a headlock. "You're a complicated person."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Beca grumbled.

Art chuckled. "Exactly what you think it means," he responded. "Someone has to dig a little deeper to figure you out." Art shrugged, pressing a kiss to Beca's head. "I got it eventually."

"There's a difference between you and my dad," Beca pointed out as they made their way to the car. She craned her head up the foot-plus difference to Art's face. "You stuck around long enough to figure it out."

xxx-xxx-xxx

Warren Mitchell was a tall man, but even he felt small when standing beside Arthur Landry. He wasn't sure what quite compelled him to do so, but when he heard that Art was coming down to spend the holiday with Beca, he invited the pair out to lunch.

Warren stood from his seat as Beca and Art entered the café. Beca was laughing at something Art said, shoving her stepdad with a wide smile on her face, swatting away his hands as he continued to pester her. Warren couldn't help but feel the pang in his heart. It certainly stung a bit that Art Landry succeeded where he could not with Molly and Beca. That easy camaraderie was absent from his own relationship with Beca, and she certainly never smiled around him the way that she did around Art.

"Art." Warren extended a hand with a smile. "Good to see you."

"Warren." The deep, rumbling voice formed his name as Art's big paw engulfed his hand. "How are things?"

Warren shrugged as they took their seats, Art holding out Beca's chair. "Not bad, I certainly can't complain. Classes are going well, Oliver is doing very well at school, and Sheila just got back from another conference. This time was Baltimore."

Art nodded. "Good to know she'll be able to spend the holiday home."

"Speaking of, what are your plans for Thanksgiving?" Warren took a sip of his iced tea. "You're welcome to spend it with us."

"We spending Thanksgiving with Chloe's family," Beca interjected.

Art pinched his stepdaughter on her side, a silent warning. He looked to Warren. "We'll be happy to stop by for a little bit, though." He ignored Beca's barely audible groan of protest, choosing instead to kick her under the table. He stifled a chuckle as she bared her teeth at him.

"I'm glad you're making friends," Warren directed to his daughter.

Beca shrugged as her order was placed in front of her. "Just passing the time, I guess."

"Professor Oberman says you've been spending a lot of time with Chloe Beale."

Beca's eyebrows drew together as her head bobbed up. "Seriously, Dad? I'm getting more and more suspicious that you have spies tailing me or something."

"She's one of the sociology professors," Warren explained. "Her Intro class is right across from your Philosophy class and lets out the same time."

"Geeze, that's creepy," Beca mumbled, poking at her pasta salad. She shrugged, taking a bite of her BLT. "She's a cool girl."

"That's good," Warren complimented. "I don't remember you ever being friends with girls."

"I don't remember you ever being around long enough to meet my friends to be aware of that fact," Beca returned dryly.

Warren blanched slightly, clearing his throat. He forced out a smile, taking a bite of his salad. "I'm just saying it's nice. I'm glad you found an activity you enjoy."

Art's face took on a mischievous air. "Yeah, Bee, that must be an _activity_ you enjoy."

Beca's head snapped to her stepdad, and she whipped out a jab to his arm, a mortified look on her face. "Oh, you are _not_ going there."

Warren looked from one to the other, unsure of what the literal punchline was. "I'm sorry, I seem to be a little lost."

Art grinned. "Let's just say Beca doesn't enjoy the singing as much as she does _other_ aspects of the group."

Warren's eyebrows shot skyward as he pondered the implications of Art's statement. He had never seen Beca so unsettled, she always had such a strong, stubborn presence about her. He had to admit it hurt a bit that Art got to see the vulnerabilities, the insecurities, the little nuances that made his daughter exponentially more complicated than what was just on the surface. Warren smiled politely. He never had a chance to joke with Beca about her latest crush. Not the way Art did.

"I hate you," Beca mumbled, shooting a glare to her stepfather, her face bright red with mortification.

"I can't wait to meet this girl," Art remarked as Beca hunkered down in her seat.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Art smirked up at the restaurant they stood in front of, perhaps one of the nicest in Atlanta, bearing the name of a celebrated chef. He looked down at his attire, the pressed slacks and sports coat, then over to his stepdaughter in her own version of the restaurant's "casual elegant" dress code.

"Yeah, Becs, you're not trying to impress the girl at all."

Beca's face shifted to show panic. "It's not too much, is it?"

Art rolled his eyes, gesturing to the restaurant. "I don't know, Beca, a lot of this restaurant can be described as 'much'."

"I wanted to do something nice," Beca defended. "I've wanted to take her out to dinner, this just expedites the process."

"You know, a place like Olive Garden would have been fine," Art commented, observing the five-star steakhouse. "You could have skipped the famous restaurant."

"To be fair, what's the point of having connections if you don't use them," Beca reasoned.

"I guess." Art shrugged. "I still reserve the right to tease you about this later. I don't think you've ever gone _this_ all-out for a girl before."

"Art, I swear to Mom that if you embarrass me, I'll…" Beca threatened, mumbling under her breath.

Art grinned. "You'll what?"

"I don't know." Beca whirled, a finger extended and shaking warningly. "But I promise it will be bad."

Art shook his head. "I'm sorry, Becs, but you have to admit this is a bit uncharacteristic of you."

Beca sighed, shrugging helplessly. "I almost kissed her."

"And?" Art waited for more. "You've been 'almost kissed' by more women – more _famous_ women, I might add – than Chloe. I've seen you flirt with an international supermodel and not bat an eyelash."

"Her best friend walked in before I could," Beca continued.

Art was still unsure where all of this was leading. "Okay?"

Beca's shoulders slumped. "And now I don't know how to act around her."

Art shrugged. "Why not? Has something changed?"

"It's like nothing's changed," Beca mumbled.

"Well, shouldn't you take a cue from that, then?"

"But something _has_ changed," Beca refuted.

"In a good way? In a bad way?" Art probed. "How?"

Beca sighed. "I don't know. All I know is that things _have_ changed."

Art sighed, slinging an arm around his stepdaughter. "Bee, you've gotta know by now that change isn't a bad thing…"

"Isn't _always_ a bad thing," Beca corrected. "I guess we'll just have to see if it's a good or a bad thing."

Art chuckled, shaking his head as the car pulled up to the front of the restaurant, and Chloe was helped out by the solicitous valet. Beca stepped forward, tipping the man, and grinned as Chloe immediately latched onto her arm.

"You look great."

Chloe blushed, looking down at her dress. "Thanks. It's been awhile, but I love dressing up."

Beca led her over to where Art was standing,

"Art, this is my friend, Chloe Beale. Chloe, this is my stepdad, Art Landry."

"Pleasure to meet you, sir," Chloe chirped.

"Pleasure's all mine, Chloe." Art ushered them towards the door, a mischievous smile on his face. "Has Beca ever told you about the time when she was in high school, she had to sprint across the parking lot to her car in nothing but a basketball jersey?"

Beca groaned, following the two into the restaurant. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all…

xxx-xxx-xxx

Thanksgiving was never high on Beca's list of preferred holidays. In the past, it often served as a point of contention with the parental units over which of the two sets she would spend the holiday. It became an alternating sort of arrangement, but as the years went by, Beca soon vastly preferred the Landry get-togethers, which sometimes included Molly's family, the Bryants. The large, boisterous family often clashed with the solemn, formal gatherings of Warren's side.

And yet, with her in Atlanta, Art as her only saving grace, Beca found herself standing on the porch of her father and stepmother's house, a pair of wine bottles in hand, debating on whether or not to ring the doorbell.

"Last chance," Beca mumbled, fiddling with the hem of her top. She was as dressed up as she could possibly be in a draped, silk top, black jeans, and her dressiest pair of ankle boots. "We can turn tail and bolt right now."

Art poked her, tugging at the collar of his button-down beneath his cashmere sweater. "C'mon…how bad can it be?"

Beca snorted. "Do you really want to test that theory?"

Art rolled his eyes, leaning over to press the button.

The door opened to reveal the long, lean form of Beca's father. Warren's eyes lit up as he took in his daughter and her stepfather. "Hey! Right on time! Happy Thanksgiving."

Art took the lead, shaking Warren's hand as he entered, handing over the bottle of wine they brought along.

Sheila appeared beside her husband, taking one of the bottles and reading the label. "Wow, this is quite a quality vintage. Thank you, Art."

"Oh, I'm more of a beer guy." Art hitched a thumb towards Beca. "I don't know anything about wine. This was all Beca."

Sheila looked thrown for a moment, her eyes flicking to her stepdaughter who was staring disinterestedly out into the living room.

"This is a wonderful choice, Beca." Sheila tapped the bottle. "The casual wine drinker isn't familiar with this vintage, especially not one from this part of France. This is quite a quality wine. I'm impressed."

Beca shrugged it off, fiddling with the bracelet around her wrist. "Picked up some things here and there. This was a vintage I enjoyed the last time I was in Paris. I thought it would be nice to add to dinner."

"Well, thank you. I'll be sure to crack these open for everyone."

Beca glanced down as Warren and Sheila's eleven year-old son wandered up to stand beside his mother. Beca pasted a smile on her face.

"Hi, Oliver."

The bespectacled brunette boy, almost a spitting image of their father, right down to the mini, brown tweed jacket, looked impassively up at his half-sister. "Hello, Beca."

Beca sighed inwardly. She was the adult, she was well aware of that. She really shouldn't hold this juvenile, petulant grudge towards her little half-brother – really an innocent in the situation – but she couldn't help but feel a slight resentment towards Oliver. He received the attention and that was so absent in her own childhood. Oliver was a little child prodigy, a serious, somber little boy who lived with his nose in a book, fascinated with math and science, basically everything Warren had wanted in a child. Everything Beca certainly wasn't.

"How have you been?"

"Pleasant," Oliver answered. "My school is holding a science fair, and I'm contemplating my options and what specific area of study to focus on for my project."

"Cool," Beca complimented. "I'm sure you'll do well."

Oliver shrugged coolly. "I should. I'm a bit more advanced in my research than my peers."

Beca cocked an eyebrow with an amused smirk. "Just make sure you have fun with it, dude."

Oliver nodded, wandering off. Beca shook her head. Cute kid, she decided. He would very possibly find a cure for cancer or something, but man, she pictured a lot of wedgies in his future. With a long-sufering sigh, Beca turned back to the party, resisting the urge to drink her way through the experience.

The gathering was a reserved, almost somber affair, and rather formal. Warren's living room was filled with a few of Warren and Sheila's colleagues, all of whom were academics who didn't quite view either Art or Beca as viable candidates for worthwhile conversation.

"Okay," Art mumbled as they got into the car an hour later. "You might've had a point. That was bad."

"I'm going to hold off on the 'I told you so,'" Beca deadpanned. "But rest assured, I'm saving it for one epic instance comparable to _Hangover_ status."

xxx-xxx-xxx

As they pulled up to Chloe's house, ringing the doorbell, Beca felt a whole different sort of anxiety. She smoothed down her blouse, fluffing her hair slightly, hoping she made the right impression on the Beale family.

Chloe pulled open the door with a squeal, throwing her arms around the DJ. "Hey! You made it."

"Now this is more like it!" Art enthused as he craned his head in the doorway and took in the sight. The afternoon football games blared from multiple televisions in the house, the biggest one in the living room, and even one set up outside where Chloe's dad was manning the grill with more food.

"I'm so glad you're here!" Chloe grabbed Beca's arm, tugging her into the house. "Come meet everyone."

Chloe wove through her family, introducing everyone. The first thing Beca thought as she was put in front of the various members of the Beale family was that they were all so tall and her neck was starting to ache from looking up the vast height difference. Chloe's dad, Beau, was almost even with Art, and Chloe's four brothers were about the same height. The shortest was Collin, and even he was over six-feet tall. Chloe's mother, Jill, reflected her daughter's red hair and petite stature, only standing about an inch taller than Chloe.

"Pleasure to meet you, sir," Beca squeaked, handing over the wine. "I hope you don't mind, but I brought something for you guys."

"Geeze," Beau whistled, looking down at the bottles. "We can't accept this, Beca. This wine is over a thousand dollars a bottle, and you've given us two."

Beca blushed, scuffing a boot. "Small price to pay for having us and Chloe putting up with me," she mumbled.

"Don't be silly," Jill assured the pair. "We're happy to have you." She smiled, taking in the awestruck look on her husband's face. Jill relieved Beau of the bottles with a kiss to his cheek. "Just smile and say thank you, honey."

Beau grinned obligingly. "Thanks. And you're more than welcome to join us for Christmas, too."

Beca laughed, nodding. "Thank you, sir, I'll keep that in mind."

Beau clapped a hand on Art's shoulder, "Come on, Art, I'd like your opinion on some of the grub we got in the back. You a football fan?"

"G-Men backer born and raised," Art affirmed.

Beau chuckled. "Fair enough. Chloe said your family was from Brooklyn. Hope you don't mind us all being Falcons fans."

Art shook his head. "As long as you don't root for the Eagles."

Beau shook his head. "Never. We'll root for the Dolphins, more from when we lived down in Miami, but Jill and I are both from Georgia. The Falcon love runs strong."

"I hear you."

Beca grinned to herself as Art was unceremoniously inducted into the fold, surrounded by the Beale men gathered around the grill simultaneously cooking and watching the game. Chloe drew her back into the kitchen where she struck up a conversation with Jill and Calvin's wife. As she laughed at one of Chloe's stories – a Bellas mishap back in the redhead's sophomore year – Beca felt a tug on the hem of her shirt and glanced down. A pair of brilliant blue eyes the same shade of blue as Chloe's stared back at her. The pair of eyes belonged to a cute little boy, his head full of blonde curls.

"Hi," she greeted, crouching down to his eye level.

"Hi." The boy thrust a tiny thumb into his chest. "I'm Braxton. Who are you?"

"I'm Beca, Chloe's friend."

"You're Aunt Chlo-Chlo's friend?" His eyes raked up and down, a rapid assessment transpiring in the scant time it took for him to peruse her from head to toe. Whatever judgment emerged seemed to be positive as he took hold of her hand, tugging at her fingers. "Play with us!"

Beca chuckled as he guided her determinedly towards the mass of toys set up in a way that only made sense to the kids. She had a flash of familiarity of a similar scene, only she was towed along by a certain redheaded female.

She dropped down to the rug, crossing her legs. She looked over to the other boy, identical to Braxton, but with his blonde curls a little longer than his twin's. "What's your name?"

"Brayden!"

Beca smiled, turning her attention to the little girl. "And what's your name, cutie?"

The little girl babbled gleefully, and Braxton helpfully translated. "That's Maddie."

Maddie grinned, waving a little hand as Braxton and Brayden explained their game. Beca jumped in, grabbing a toy car and weaving it through the toy buildings as the boys effortlessly weaved her into their fun.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Chloe glanced up to find Beca missing, and she craned her head, trying to locate the brunette. Her heart warmed as she found Beca in the living room, surrounded by Calvin's kids and their toys, thoroughly engaged in whatever game they were playing. She gravitated to the doorway to catch a better look, smiling indulgently to herself as Beca growled and roared, stomping a toy dinosaur through the boys' Lego town, playfully destroying a haphazardly-built structure to Braxton and Brayden's screams of delight.

"Looks like your girlfriend's a hit," Cam mused as he entered the kitchen and nudged his little sister.

"She's not my girlfriend," Chloe corrected him.

"Yeah, right." Cal joined the two, leaning on the kitchen island. "She must mean _something_. The last time you brought someone by was..." He dropped off abruptly, looking away. The atmosphere in the kitchen shifted as he fell silent.

"No," Collin piped up, breaking the apprehension that had settled over the group and putting his two cents in. "There was that one moron her freshman year. What was his name?"

"Matt? Or was it Mike?" Carson supplied, jumping into the banter. "Something like that, anyway."

"It was _Mark_," Chloe shot back, her eyes sparkling with indignation.

"Whatever. He was an idiot and in no way right for you," Cal pointed out. "Because we're your brothers and we love you, it's our familial obligation to make sure you don't make a huge mistake."

"Yeah," Carson chimed in. "What good are the four of us if not to chase away the buttmunchers."

"Oh, yes, so mature," Chloe drawled. "So why is it that I haven't heard a single disparaging thing about Beca?"

"She's short," Collin deadpanned. "There? Satisfied?"

Chloe's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "That's it?"

Cam shrugged. "What else do you want us to do, Chlo? She's funny, Mom and Dad are completely smitten, her dad's not an asshole, and the kids like her. We can't hate her on principle."

"You did with Mark!" Chloe hissed.

"That's because he was a guy," Beau jumped into the conversation as he wove his way around his children to place food on the island. "And it was obvious he was after one thing."

"And what? Beca's not because she's a girl?" Chloe challenged.

"Oh no," Beau held up his hands. "I'm not going there…"

"Mom!" Chloe whined, appealing to her mother.

"Sorry, Sunshine, I'm gonna have to go with the boys on this one," Jill apologized to her daughter. "They do have a point."

Chloe whirled to the last person in their little group as he walked in from the backyard. "Art, help me out here."

The tall man's eyes widened, taking on a deer-in-the-headlight's expression as he haplessly stumbled into the discussion. "Sorry, Chloe, I'm not quite sure what I'm helping you out with," he admitted.

"I have a right to be suspicious my brothers haven't said anything bad about Beca," Chloe edified.

Art chuckled. "Wait, you're mad because they approve?" Art shook his head. "Chloe, I'll be the first to admit Beca can be devastatingly charming when she wants to be. Can't help you there."

"Great," Chloe mumbled.

Art patted the redhead's back consolingly as the rest of the Beales dispersed. "There could be worse things than your entire family approving, you know," he reasoned, heading back towards the bathroom.

Chloe looked to where Beca was seated on the living room floor, still engaged with the twins and Maddie.

"I suppose not."

She watched Beca as the brunette continued to play. Maddie wobbled over, her big blue eyes imploring up at Beca. She held out her hands, and Beca obliged, picking up the toddler and plopping the little blonde in her lap. Grasping a small hand in hers, Beca helped Maddie guide the toy along, making the accompanying car sounds.

Chloe shifted in her spot against the kitchen doorway, watching the other woman play with her niece and nephews. She interacted so effortlessly with the kids, and it showed in the constant chorus of laughter and giggles, both from child and adult.

Chloe smiled as Art sidled up beside her again, grinning as he saw Beca fly a toy airplane through the air, playfully looping it around Braxton then Brayden's head as Maddie clapped with delight. Chloe gestured to the brunette.

"She's good with kids."

"Surprising, isn't it?" Art chuckled. "She's always been like that."

Chloe tilted her head. "Why is that?"

Art shrugged. "Probably because a kid doesn't judge you the way an adult does. She never really got to be a kid when she was younger, so she takes advantage of the times she can do so."

Chloe observed Beca and the wide smile adorning the DJ's face. Beca leaned down to Maddie, tickling the little belly, laughing as the four year-old squealed her glee.

xxx-xxx-xxx

"Whatcha doin'?" Chloe nudged the brunette as she sidled up to Beca. The family was scattered around the house, most parked in the living room, fixated on the afternoon football game. Beca, however, was wandering around, taking in the Beale home. The DJ had her head tilted up, looking at the various pictures decorating the walls of the Beale home. Each of the five children had multiple images adorning the living room at different points in their lives from graduations, to championship games, to weddings.

"Just looking at the pictures." Beca chuckled. "Makes me think of my own embarrassing ones at Art's house, not to mention the scrapbook you gave me."

"We're big on pictures," Chloe revealed. "There were so many of us and so many things going on that pictures were often how everyone got to experience everything."

"That's cool." Beca shrugged. "I never really did anything that needed picture-taking."

"Not even graduation?" Chloe asked.

Beca's face fell, and she rubbed the underside of her right forearm. Chloe recognized the gesture as one of Beca's rare tics, often associated with memories of her mother. Sure enough, Beca bit her lip and explained. "My mother died right before graduation," she mumbled. "I think walking with my class was the last thing on my mind back then."

Chloe squeezed her arm comfortingly. "I'm sorry."

Beca shrugged. "I didn't need to walk to know I graduated." She returned her attention to the pictures. Her eyes settled on a happy one. Chloe was sandwiched between two guys. Beca recognized Carson on one side, but the other male was unfamiliar to her. He was attractive in an All-American sort of way, tall and built with dirty blonde hair, gray-blue eyes, and a sweet smile.

"This one's cute," Beca commented, pointing to the picture. "Who's the other guy?"

Chloe shrugged, her face going blank. "Carson's best friend."

Beca's eyes perused more photos, noting the guy was in many of them, intermingled with various combinations of Beales. "You all look cozy, like he's part of the family."

Again, Chloe shrugged. She seemed to deflect the question, taking Beca's attention away from the subject and the pictures on the wall. Chloe turned to Beca, grabbing the other woman's hand. "Come on."

Beca hid her suspicion behind a smile. For as warm and welcoming as the Beales had been, Chloe hadn't been her usual effervescent self since they had step foot in the Beale house.

"Where are we going?"

Chloe grinned, tugging her to the backyard. "To the best part of the house."

"Wow." Beca whistled at the impressive structure nestled amidst the branches of one of the trees in the Beale's backyard. "That's pretty sweet."

"It's called The Fort," Chloe explained. "The boys built it with Dad when Cal was like nine. Cam was seven or something." Chloe's brow furrowed as she thought about the timeframe. "I had just been born, Collin was four, and Carson was three."

"That must have been crazy," Beca commented.

"The house was never quiet," Chloe agreed. "Come on." She braced her foot on the lowest rung of the ladder leading up the tree. "The Fort became the boys' thing, and they wouldn't let me up until I could climb the whole way on my own."

"Poor, little Chloe," Beca sympathized.

"One day, I finally did it," Chloe beamed. She looked around the treehouse, recalling all the fun memories she had within the tightly-boarded walls. "My brothers got bored with it, but I always found my way up here whenever I needed some alone time."

Beca grinned, taking in the little feminine touches that just screamed 'Chloe!' littering the walls. "I could totally see it."

"This was my safe place," Chloe murmured. "When I came up here, nothing could hurt me."

A sudden melancholy washed over between them, and suddenly, Chloe's normal flirty disposition seemed forced. Beca's brows drew together infinitesimally as she observed the redhead tense. Just as quickly as it appeared, and Chloe was back to her bright, bubbly self. Something still seemed off…

"Can I ask you something?"

Her voice even seemed far away. Beca nodded hesitantly. "Sure."

"What happened to your mom?" Chloe rubbed her palms over her leggings. "You talk about her a lot, but you never told me what happened to her."

Beca sighed, rubbing the grasshopper inked into her forearm. "Well, you know she died," Beca mumbled. "It was breast cancer. I was seventeen."

"I'm sorry."

Beca shrugged. "It is what it is. I miss her like crazy, but she suffered a long time. I just wanted her to stop hurting." Beca grinned morosely. "She would have loved you."

Chloe beamed. "I am rather loveable."

"And so modest, too." Beca leaned back on her hands, head tilted up towards the ceiling of the treehouse. "She always said that someday I'd find someone that made me a little less prickly."

Chloe grinned, leaning in closer to Beca, situating herself firmly in the other woman's personal space. "And have you?"

A corner of Beca's mouth tilted upward in her trademark half-smirk. "Maybe." She fished in her pocket. "I've got something for you." Beca withdrew a small rubber keychain that reflected a DJ's turntable complete with record, player needle, dial, and fader. Threaded through the loop was a silver key that she handed over to Chloe.

Chloe brightened as she cradled the gift in her palm. It was a key she recognized instantly. She had seen it countless times being shoved negligently into the lock of a door she spent just as much time behind as her own apartment and the Bellas' rehearsal room. "It's the key to your apartment."

Beca nodded. "I figure you're around often enough. That way, you don't have to wait for Damon or me to let you in."

Chloe's eyes twinkled as she glanced sideways at Beca. "Are you sure? This will make stalking so much easier now that I have access to your place."

Beca shrugged. "I figured I would succumb to the inevitable. Besides, I like having you around."

Chloe beamed and threw her arms around Beca's neck, smacking a kiss to the brunette's cheek. "Thank you. This is really sweet of you."

Beca's nose wrinkled. "First 'cute' now 'sweet'? I'm gonna start losing my rep hanging out with you."

Chloe giggled. "Beca, you lost your rep the moment you sang with me in the shower."

Beca's expression shifted as the visual flooded her brain before she caught herself, and she squeezed her eyes shut, ducking her head and shaking it insistently. "No, nope, don't say that to me, nuh-uh."

"Beca Mitchell, are you thinking about me naked?" Chloe teased, leaning in close, her lips brushing Beca's ear.

"No," Beca refuted, her eyes still tightly shut. "I am absolutely not thinking about you naked in your childhood home with your mom and very scary dad and very scary older brothers within ten-foot radius of us."

Chloe giggled. "C'mon, Beca. It adds to the thrill." She inched closer, leaning over Beca's reclined form, her hands bracketing Beca's hips. "You've never fooled around knowing that someone's nearby and could overhear?"

Beca barked out a strangled laugh. "You're trouble, Chloe Beale."

Chloe's grin held a potent mischievous air as she threw a leg over the other woman, straddling Beca's thighs. "We can test out my theory, you know," she drawled. "See how quiet you can be even when everything in you is screaming for _release_."

Beca drew in a ragged breath, her eyelids fluttering as she felt the delicious press of Chloe on her thighs, the redhead's perfume wafting into her nostrils. Chloe's big, blue eyes gazed down imploringly at her, cherry red lips twisted in a wry smirk, pink tongue trapped coyly between straight white teeth.

God, the woman was such the tempting vixen.

Beca craned her neck, intent on closing the gap between them when a shout from the house shattered the tension between them.

"Girls! Dinner!"

"Whoops, too late!" Chloe dismounted the brunette and scrambled down the ladder before Beca could even attempt to orient herself from the veritable lashing of her senses courtesy of one Chloe Beale.

Chloe grinned up at the treehouse, her hands on her hips, waiting for Beca. Soon enough, the tousled brunette locks popped out from inside The Fort, and Beca glowered down at the smug redhead on the ground.

"I hate you."

xxx-xxx-xxx

As they sat down at the table to eat, food was passed around, and Beau led them in quick mentions of all they were thankful for. The conversation began around them, and Beau nodded over to Beca, sandwiched between Chloe and Art.

"So, Beca, you're a freshman at Barden?"

"Yup. I started a little late," Beca admitted. "My dad teaches there."

"Interesting. So what were you doing before college?"

"Working, mostly," Beca hedged. "I started pretty early in my career."

"She's a DJ and a music producer," Chloe supplied proudly. "She got us into the Lava Lounge the night she was spinning a set."

Carson's eyes went wide. "The Lava Lounge? That place is almost impossible to get into unless you know someone."

Cam's eyes leveled at the tiny, seemingly unassuming woman beside his sister. "And you were spinning there? That means you must be kind of a big deal."

Beca shrugged, looking down at her plate. "I wouldn't say that. I get by."

"Have you done something we would be familiar with?" Calvin asked.

"I think so." Beca tried desperately to hold onto her modesty. "I've got a couple of songs on the radio."

"A couple?" Chloe scoffed. "You probably have a hand in half the songs on the iTunes top downloads." She started naming off a few of Beca's most recent hits.

"Oh!" Jill made the connection. "You're that DJ Lady-Something! Chloe loves your music!"

"DJ Lady B, yeah," Beca corrected with a blush.

"Wait." Collin sat up straighter. "I just saw you on TV last weekend on some award show. You did a huge performance with Beyonce, right?"

Beca nodded slowly. She had gone back to LA last week for the American Music Awards where she had won in a couple of the categories and performed at the ceremony. Luckily, her professors had all been understanding, and she had been excused from any assignments that had been due that week.

"Hang on a second," Beau jumped in, halting everyone for a moment. "Didn't you also just do an album with Queen last year?"

Beca nodded slowly. "Featuring Adam Lambert, yes."

Beau cocked an eyebrow. "You are invited to any and all family gatherings."

"So…what are you doing at Barden?" Carson asked the lingering question.

Beca sighed. "Just trying to get my degree, I guess. I promised my mom I would."

Beau nodded approvingly. "Good girl. It's nice to see when celebrities are also educated even if they make more than the average person with a degree."

Beca tensed, unsure if the revelation of her celebrity would cause any sort of shift in the Beale's perception of her. Any of those fears were quickly dissolved as Carson cocked his head, looking the DJ up and down.

"You look taller on TV…"

The table burst into laughter and good-natured ribbing. Beca fielded questions about the artists she worked with and any future projects she was excited for, but other than that, the family just seemed to see her as plain, ole Beca Mitchell – although Carson did jokingly ask for backstage passes to her next gig.

Hours later as Beca and Art climbed into the SUV to head back to Beca's apartment, Art slumped back into his seat.

"Now that's how you celebrate Thanksgiving," he grunted, rubbing his stomach.

"Sure is," Beca sighed in agreement.

"The Beales are good people," Art mumbled, stretching his arms over his head. "Wouldn't mind spending more Thanksgivings with them."

"They are something," Beca agreed. She looked to her stepfather. "Thanks for being here, Art."

"Any time, kiddo. You know that."

xxx-xxx-xxx

Winding down from the excitement of the day, Art and Beca sat side by side on the back balcony of Beca's apartment, looking out at the view of Barden, a beer bottle in their dominant hands, Beca's left and Art's right.

Beca craned her head back, letting out a satisfied belch.

Art chuckled, extending his arm over the gap between them. "Atta girl."

Beca grinned, tilting her own bottle to Art's, clinking them together.

"Thanks, Art."

Art sighed, slouching further down in his seat. "So, how have you been, Bumblebee?"

Beca hummed her indifference, taking a gulp of her beer. "Can't complain."

"Any big artists you're going to work with?"

Beca smiled. Art was possibly the most one-dimensioned musical person she had ever known – his own proclivities revolved around country music – but he was always so committed and interested in what she did.

"I do have some studio time set up to lay down some tracks with Ludacris."

Art cocked his head. "Which one is he?"

Beca laughed. "'_Move, bitch, get out the way!_'" she recited.

"That guy?" Art cocked an eyebrow. "Isn't he the one with all the hoes in different area codes or something?" He nodded his head slowly. "It all makes sense."

Beca snorted, coughing as beer went down the wrong way. "Wow. I'm not even sure what to say to that."

Art laughed. "What?"

Beca shook her head. "I can't even…"

Art grinned. "So, how are things at Barden? You learning anything important?"

Beca shrugged. "Apparently my ten-page philosophy term paper based on a single-word prompt is supposed to reveal something about myself."

"How's that going for you?"

Beca sighed, tipping back her beer bottle. "The single paragraph I've scrounged up supposedly indicates I'm a lot more complicated than I think."

Art huffed out a scoff. "Bee, I hate to break it to you, kiddo, but that's something we all knew from the beginning." He grinned at the disgruntled look on Beca's face. "It's okay, it's one of the things I love about you."

"So you say," Beca teased.

Art shrugged, leaving it at that. "Chloe seems nice," he commented innocently.

"She's something," Beca mused with a fond smile.

"Not your usual type, Bec," Art remarked.

Beca cocked an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"That most of the women you attempt to have any sort of relationship with are high-maintenance and most of the time unbearable," Art pointed out. "I can stand spending a couple of hours with Chloe and her family."

"You just found football buddies in all of the males," Beca grumbled.

"I can ignore the fact they're all Falcons fans if I can talk to someone who knows what YAC stands for," Art drawled.

"I know what YAC stands for," Beca insisted. Her brow furrowed, mouth twisting as she tried to think of some sort of acronym. "Yeast…Artificial…Chromosome?"

Art only shook his head.

Beca pouted. "I'm starting to think you don't like me anymore."

Art chuckled, lifting Beca bodily from her chair and plopping her into his lap. Beca curled into his massive frame as he wrapped her in strong arms. "I'll always like you best, Bee," he promised. "I'm just saying you could do a whole lot worse than Chloe."

"She is kind of awesome, isn't she?"

"That she is, kiddo."

Beca sighed. "What does that say about me if those are the types of girls I've been going for?"

Art chuckled again. "Nothing," he assured her. "You're young. To be fair, you've had models and actresses and wannabe singers throwing themselves at you. It's hard not to get caught up in all that attention." He tilted Beca's face up so she looked him in the eye. "Look, kid, Sometimes you've gotta experience the bad to recognize the good. But when you find that someone who's worth it, you'll know. Because their bads aren't really so bad and their goods are just short of incredible. It may take a bit, but you'll figure it out."

"Did you know when you met Mom?" Beca asked.

Art smiled softly, the gesture tinged with nostalgia. "Yup. And I thank your Uncle Owen every day for playing up my better qualities."

Beca smiled into Art's shirt as he tightened his grip. "I was smart enough to figure out when I found something great, Becs. And as hard as you tried to resist, your mom and I sure didn't raise a fool. So for the love of all things good and holy, don't screw this up."

"Seriously, Art, it's _astounding_ how much faith you have in me. _Astounding_."

xxx-xxx-xxx

The four-days of a holiday allotted for Thanksgiving wasn't nearly enough time and before the weekend was over, and Beca was sending Art back to Brooklyn. Chloe had tagged along to say goodbye to him and was clinging onto Beca's hand as they all navigated through the airport towards the security gate.

"Well, this is me."

Chloe bounced forward, throwing her arms around Beca's stepdad. "Bye, Art!"

"Bye, Chloe." Art returned the hug with a smile. "It was nice meeting you." He tilted his head towards Beca. "Keep this one in line, will ya?"

Chloe saluted him sharply. "10-4!"

He turned to Beca, wrapping her in a strong hug. "You take care of yourself, okay, Bee?"

"Will do." Beca's mouth twisted in a smile that trembled slightly as she fought to hold back her emotions. "I'll miss you, Papa Bear."

Art pressed a kiss to Beca's head. "I'll miss you, too, kid."

Chloe sidled up to Beca as Art headed off towards the gate. "I think I get it now," she commented, slinging an arm around Beca's shoulders.

"Get what?" Beca asked.

"I've seen friends get messed up from their parents splitting, but you never really seemed like that." She gestured to Art's broad back weaving through the security line. "Now I know why."

Beca smiled softly. "Yeah. I may not call him 'Dad', but he's my dad."

"I'm glad you have him," Chloe murmured.

"Me too."

xxx-xxx-xxx

As Regionals rolled around, the Bellas threw themselves into preparation. Rehearsals were lengthened to provide the ultimate preparation time, and by the time the weekend of the competition hit, everything was set. Beca had ridden with the Bellas to North Carolina for Regionals, Damon following behind them.

Standing in the wings during the performances, Beca didn't pay much attention to the girls on stage. She had seen it dozens of times in its various incarnations. Instead, Beca kept her eyes on the audience, trying to gauge the audience. Predictably, they were watching the performance, but it was in no way thrilling to watch. Unlike how the Trebles had the crowd leaping out of their seats, the Bellas just seemed to hold interest, nothing more, nothing less. Beca chuckled to herself as Amy broke choreography, ripping open her blouse in an attempt to spice up their predictable, boring performance. She was certain the Tasmanian would be hearing about that stunt from Aubrey.

It wasn't a surprise when the Trebles took the trophy, the Bellas just managing to qualify in second place. It was a consolation that they would be heading onto the Semi-Finals, but considering their competition also consisted of a group performing with sock puppets, it wasn't much comfort. As they trumped down the stairs behind the triumphantly hooting Trebles, Beca cocked an eyebrow at the quartet of middle-aged men dressed in khakis and cardigans attempting to attract people to them, the "Tonehangers" was what was all over their things. Her right eyebrow joined the left as she realized they were covering T-Pain's "Booty Work". That was a song Beca firmly believed should not be sung by anyone over thirty.

She rolled her eyes as she realized the two groups were squared off, but her brow furrowed when she noticed the elder men were attempting to engage the Trebles in a fight. Even worse, one had cornered Jesse and was trying to goad the younger man into striking him, even going as far as to brandish the trophy.

Beca shouldered her way in front of Jesse, pushing back the man. "Dude, back off. He doesn't want to hit you. Go be lame somewhere else."

The Tonehanger scoffed. "You just don't know what you're listening to, young lady."

"I know enough to know you guys are lacking a serious fullness in your sound, your beatboxer is completely rudimentary – seriously, dude, a toddler has more in its repertoire – and there's a complete absence of any sort of higher–" Beca caught herself in the midst of a highly technical analysis, turning an accusatory gaze to Aubrey and the rest of the Bellas. "Oh, geeze, look what you've done."

Beca turned back to the man, raising her hand mockingly. "Can I just point out that you're a middle-aged dude skulking around a collegiate a cappella competition? The only way you'd be more pitiful is if you were skulking around the high schools."

"Pitiful!" The other man bristled. "What's pitiful is your completely disregard for talent."

Beca dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "Please. Do us all a favor and haunt a more age-appropriate venue. You're tainting the _real_ talent in the room with your mediocrity and receding hairline."

"I don't see you holding a trophy," the Tonehanger sneered.

Beca snorted. "It's kinda pretentious to flaunt my awesomeness, but hey, if that floats your boat, I've got a Grammy I could easily shove up your ass. I wouldn't want to, though. I kind of like the trophy without the scent of failure all over it." She physically turned Jesse around, shoving him towards the exit. "Come on, J, just walk away."

"I'm not done with you! Come back so I can–" He reached out to catch Beca's wrist when she tensed suddenly, muscles bunching like a predator ready to strike. Whirling sharply to face him, she batted his hand away and lashed out with her fist, catching him straight across the face. The man crashed to the ground with a grunt, blood trickling from his mouth. Beca started as she felt Amy at her elbow, bellowing about "the Kraken", a heel snapping out to bury itself in his crotch.

"Amy!"

"I've got your back, Beca!" Amy snatched up the trophy. "Gimme the sharp weapon, I want to shove it up his ass!"

"Amy, no!" Beca's cry turned feeble as she tried to wrestle the trophy away from the crazed blonde. Much to her dismay, the trophy broke with a snap, the heavier end spiraling away and shattering the glass door behind them. Amy took one look at the scattered pieces and bolted.

"Amy!"

"Vertical running!" Amy yelped, dashing towards the exit, leaving Beca with the proverbial smoking gun. "I'm vertical running!"

She supposed she really couldn't be surprised when a cop slapped cuffs on her and hauled her away in a squad car, citing the reason as "destruction of public property." Just as she was hauled out of the auditorium, Damon came scrambling through the doors, having run into Amy on her dash out. Immediately, he went to Chloe.

"What happened?"

As Chloe recounted the story, Damon sighed. "Alright, I'm gonna go get her. I assume they're taking her to county?"

"Yeah," Chloe answered. "Thanks, Damon." She turned to Jesse, who hadn't moved, his mouth still agape. "You mind giving us a ride back to Barden?"

Jesse shook himself from his stupor and shook his head. "No, that's fine. I suppose it's the least we can do…" He craned his neck back to where Damon had disappeared after Beca. "Everything going to be okay?"

Chloe sighed. "I sure hope so." She turned to the rest of the Bellas. "Come on," Chloe took charge, shuffling to the exit. "The Trebles are gonna take us back to campus. We'll meet at Beca's apartment and wait for her there."

xxx-xxx-xxx

The drive back was somber as the Bellas shared transportation with a smugly triumphant Bumper and the rest of the Treblemakers. Chloe suspected that it would have been more painful if she hadn't snapped at Bumper, reminding him that Beca had felled a grown man with a single punch when he had wimped out at the challenge ("You do realize your quadriceps are in your legs and you pointed to your side, right?). Damon kept in touch through texts, and Chloe breathed a sigh of relief when he said everything had been taken care of.

As they pulled into Barden, Chloe took charge once again, instructing everyone to meet back in an hour in front of Beca's apartment building.

Chloe didn't even think, letting them in and automatically winding the path to Beca's suite. She stopped outside the door, sorting through her keys until she found the right one. She fit it into the knob and pushed the door open, letting the rest of the Bellas spill out into the living room.

"Damn…" Cynthia Rose let out an impressed whistle. "Who knew home girl was living it up?"

"I think the more pressing question is why do you have a key to Beca's apartment?" Aubrey hissed, rounding in on Chloe with her hands on her hips.

"Aca-awkward…" Fat Amy chimed in under her breath.

"Is this where you've been spending all of your time lately?" Aubrey accused.

"Aubrey, this isn't the right time," Chloe chastised, looking worriedly at the door as though her attention would magically cause Beca to appear before them. Chloe played the role of surrogate hostess as she waved towards the living room.

"Grab a seat. Damon says they'll be here soon."

"Soon" turned out to be a couple of hours, and Beca shuffled into the apartment, a bit disheveled and a little grumpy. She didn't look surprised to find the cluster of Bellas in her apartment.

"Hey, Shawshank!" Amy crowed from the couch.

"Did you get yourself a bitch?" Cynthia Rose rejoined from beside Amy.

"Did they spray you with a hose?"

Lilly's lips moved, and the normal silence followed as the Bellas tried to decipher what she said.

"Beca, I'm glad you're here," Aubrey spoke up, standing. "I'm officially calling an emergency Bella meeting." She took a deep breath. "In taking a look at our scorecard, we only beat the Sockappellas by two points. We have got to be better." Aubrey circled around the group. "Amy, you have to stick to the choreography."

"Aubrey, it doesn't matter _what_ we do," Beca spoke up. "The fact of the matter is that _everything_ is predictable. Everything we've done, the judges have seen before."

"We have the talent," Aubrey insisted. "We just need to stick to the plan."

"Beca's right, the Trebles never sing the same song twice," Cynthia Rose jumped in.

"It's not enough to be good," Beca countered. "We have to be different. We have an opportunity here if we change the way we work. We could change the face of a cappella…" Beca drifted off as she realized exactly what had just come out of her mouth. "Oh my God, that sounded so queerballs." Beca shook herself. "What's happening to me?" She crossed the room, shooting a glare to where Chloe was holding back her giggles. "I blame you."

Chloe shrugged unapologetically.

Beca motioned to the rest of the Bellas, leading them to the spare room. "I want to show you guys something."

"Whoa," Stacie put it rather succinctly as they took in Beca's mini studio in the second bedroom.

Cynthia Rose whistled. "Where the hell have you been hiding all of this?!"

Beca chuckled. "Sometimes, just a laptop doesn't cut it." She leaned down in front of her computer, typing in her password. Pulling up the right software, she started clicking on the mixes she had been working on for the group.

The Bellas crowded around the screen as Beca pulled up a track, blasting the music. "Basically, what we can do is take samples from songs and layer them on top of another," she explained. So it's not just one song sung straight."

"Yeah," Cynthia Rose enthused. "It's like a song within a song."

"It would be different," Amy continued. "Not even the Trebles layer their songs like this. At least not to this extent."

The rest of the girls started talking, discussing different ideas of how they could work with Beca's template, the excitement building.

"Okay, enough!" Aubrey cut them off with a loud shout "Look, I have the pitch pipe, I will make the decisions. We are sticking with our setlist, and that is that."

"But Aubrey," Chloe rotated towards her best friend. "This stuff is cool. This could–"

"I will see you all at our next rehearsal." With that, Aubrey stormed out.

xxx-xxx-xxx

The Bellas stayed for a little bit, hanging out and talking before they started filing out. As the last girl left – Cynthia Rose with a fist bump and a smirk – Chloe leaned against the wall, grinning.

"Why do I have the feeling that isn't the first time Damon's had to bail you out?"

Beca chuckled, shaking her head. "Probably because it wasn't."

Chloe's expression grew somber as she asked her next question. "Anything serious?"

Beca shook her head, rolling her eyes. "No, not even close, I just have to pay for the door."

"That's good."

Beca sighed, tipping forward into Chloe's embrace, her forehead nestled against Chloe's collarbone. Beca felt more than heard the redhead's laughter as Chloe wrapped her arms around the DJ. "God, that whole thing was so undignified."

"What? The fact that you got into a fight with a middle-aged a cappella has-been or that the reason they arrested you was because you broke a glass door by accident?"

Beca groaned. "When you put it like that, it sounds even worse."

Chloe grinned. "At least you got your shot in. That makes it a little more badass."

"Thanks for waiting up," Beca mumbled.

"Of course we waited up," Chloe murmured. "Like it or not, Mitchell, you're stuck with us."

"Oh, darn," Beca deadpanned, lifting her head from Chloe's chest. The redhead grinned, slipping her hold from around Beca's shoulders to around her neck. Beca's own hands clenched instinctively to the form-fitting sweater that brought out Chloe's eyes. Their eyes locked, and Beca's mouth twisted into a wry smile.

"Don't look at me like that," Beca murmured.

"Like what?" Chloe's eyes seemed impossibly blue, her smile impossibly bright.

"Like you wanna kiss me," Beca rejoined.

Chloe hummed, flashing her teeth again. She shifted ever so slightly, firmly planting herself in Beca's personal space, the tip of her nose brushing against Beca's.

"And if I do?" Chloe challenged.

"Awesome."

Chloe laughed, leaning down to oblige when a bang startled them apart. Both girls turned their attention to the door as Jesse burst in, still in his maroon Treblemakers' hoodie, his eyes wide and panicked. "I'm really sorry, don't kill me!"

Beca's brow furrowed in confusion. "Why would I kill you?"

"Rebeca Kay Mitchell! You got _arrested_?!"

Beca's expression darkened to a glower as she glared at Jesse. "I'm going to kill you."

_And I'm sure Jesse's not the only one who is going to die…I know, I know, that was mean BUT I PROMISE Beca and Chloe will kiss next chapter. Is that good enough for everyone or am I going to have to go in Witness Protection? Lol._

_Anyway, the song used at the beginning of this chapter was "Last Flight Home" by All Time Low. Next chapter, Beca and Chloe take a step, Beca gets some insight on her Philosophy paper, and we get to know a bit more about Aubrey Posen and what makes her tick. Thanks to everyone who has given this story love in the form of reviews, comments, likes, favorites, follows, questions, and all that. Feel free to keep them coming! Thanks as usual to the other half of the team, CJ! She's the bomb-dot-com! Until the next installment!_

_*ISP _


	6. Chapter 6

_*Scuffs foot* Umm…okay, I have a REALLY good reason for making you guys wait for this chapter. *Deep breath* So, in between the holidays, and CJ getting sick, and me getting sick, then me going out of town for a weekend, we really, really tried, but we just finished it a little later than usual please-don't-kill-me-I'm-really-sorry!_

_But, thanks so much to EVERYONE who left a comment and basically blitzed my email with all your love for the story. I really appreciate every one of you and the awesomeness you give back to me and CJ with each chapter. You guys really are the best._

_Okay, I won't keep you waiting long. All you really need to know about this chapter is there is a lot of Beca/Chloe in it._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

CHAPTER 6

_I don't wanna drown in you  
I'm sinking, then I'm torn in two  
So when you see me come up for air  
Don't try to hold me down, just save me now  
Don't let me drown in you_

Beca had always heard the songs about 'losing ones self in the power of love', of 'drowning' in a lover, all that bullshit. Personally, Beca wasn't convinced it was the great thing the guys like Huey Lewis made it out to be. Frankly, that idea scared her. In her experience, the 'power of love' was just as damaging as it was uplifting. She saw her mother gradually wilt from her bright vibrancy of a woman in love to a somber, melancholy shadow of herself with each moment Warren Mitchell spent locked up in his office on the Portland State campus and away from his family. And while Art was instrumental in rebuilding her mother's faith in love, Beca wasn't sure her own faith was restored.

So Beca remained warily cautious when it came to pursuing relationships. She didn't get too attached; she didn't fall too hard. Maybe the songs were right, maybe love could change a person, maybe all it took was that person. Beca just hadn't found _her_ person yet.

xxx-xxx-xxx

As Warren stormed out of Beca's apartment, rattling the doorframe with the force of his exit, Beca allowed her tough, stalwart façade to crumble, slumping down into the couch, a sour look on her face. Beca's head popped up as Chloe's appeared in the doorway. "You're still here?"

Chloe shrugged. "I hung out with Damon until your dad left. He's a cool guy. And really smart…"

Beca nodded with a fond smile. "Guy's had some hard knocks throughout his life. I don't doubt he could've been some Fortune 500 CEO if he really wanted to." She cocked her head. "He's thinking of going back to school or something."

"That's great!" Chloe enthused. She sobered, surveying the woman on the couch. "Are you okay?"

Beca snorted. "Oh, yeah. I love hearing my dad yell at me like he's trying to compensate for the last thirteen years not being around."

Chloe cocked her head at the DJ, her expression reflecting concern. "You need more time?"

Beca sighed. "No. Just give me a second." She reached to her side, grabbing one of the throw pillows scattered along the couch. Beca buried her face into the cushion. Took a deep breath. And screamed into the plushy softness.

Chloe smirked wryly. "Feel better?"

Beca grunted morosely, clutching the pillow to her chest. "Not in the slightest." She sighed, flopping back onto the couch. "God, what is it about parents and their ability to make you feel like shit with just a tone of voice? And I don't even _care_ about what my dad thinks."

Chloe nodded sagely, dropping down beside Beca. "It's totally a parental thing. My dad is good at it too. Have you talked to Art?"

Beca nodded. "In the car. He laughed at me…then chastised me…then called me an idiot."

Chloe snorted her laughter. "Sounds like him."

Beca's head bobbed up as a knock sounded, and Jesse craned his neck in the doorway. "Is it safe to come in?" Jesse didn't wait, merely grinned. "Hey, Hilary Swank from _Million Dollar Baby_."

Beca snorted. "You know, you can just say 'Hey, _Million Dollar Baby_'. You don't have to reference a specific actress."

Jesse shook his head. "Damn. Prison changed you."

"Speaking of…" Beca surged to her feet, rounding in on Jesse, slugging him solidly in the chest.

His eyes went wide as he rubbed the spot. "Ow! What the hell was that for?"

"Dude, I was totally about to mack on Chloe before you busted in," Beca growled.

"Chloe's still here," said woman deadpanned.

Jesse laughed. "Sorry. I didn't mean to cockblock…or cuntblock, I guess."

"Apology accepted." Beca waited a beat before lashing out again, this time hitting his shoulder.

"Geeze, woman! What was that one for?"

"That's for telling my dad!"

"I'm sorry, dude, I didn't mean to!" Jesse protested. "I ran into him when the bus dropped us off at the dorms, and it just slipped out when he asked me where you were. You know how I get when I try to lie!"

"It's true," Beca revealed to Chloe. "He can't lie to save his life."

"Really?" Chloe cocked an eyebrow, and Beca could see the cogs turning in the redhead's devious little mind. Chloe shot a sly look in Jesse's direction. "Did you ever have a crush on Beca?"

It was fascinating how Jesse's face blanched then reddened in a matter of seconds. His mouth moved, but no sound came out. Finally, Jesse managed to squeak, then spluttered out an incoherent response.

"Chloe!" Beca turned a bemused look to the senior who seemed to enjoy the resulting reaction a little too much. "You don't have to answer that, J." She turned back to Chloe with a smirk. "He totally did when we were kids. I was his first kiss."

"Then the truth came swift and cutting," Jesse lamented with a morose shake of his head. He sighed, clasping his hands over his chest. "She revealed the bitter reality that I was not her type in any way, shape, and especially not form." He grinned. "Oh well, now that I'm a Treble, there are many ladies waiting to go squiddy and drape themselves all over this."

Beca rolled her eyes. "If I weren't already into the fairer sex, that totally would have made you so much less attractive to me."

"That hurts me, Bee Sting," Jesse grunted, falling back dramatically against the doorframe. "Really, really, _really_ deep inside." He sobered, scratching the back of his neck. "I really am sorry, Beca."

Beca shook her head with a wry smirk. "It's alright, J." She chuckled. "It really does figure the first person you'd run into is my dad."

"Alright," Jesse sighed, glancing down at his phone as it beeped with a new text message. "I've gotta go. Bumper's got some stupid Treble thing planned. It might involve a minor felony, but hey, that's nothing compared to you, right?"

"Get outta here, goon." Beca swatted him on the arm and laughed, pushing him out the door. "See you, J."

As Jesse left with a jaunty wave, Beca sighed, slumping back against the couch. "I am not looking forward to explaining this to my publicist," she remarked ruefully.

Chloe grinned. "That's why you pay them the big bucks, isn't it?" She nodded to Beca's left hand, taking in the reddened knuckles. "How's the hand?"

"Sore," Beca mumbled. "Forgot how much it hurts punching someone. I'm sure hitting Jesse didn't help, either."

Chloe leveled an amused look to the DJ. "So this isn't the first time?"

Beca shrugged. "I've gotten into my fair share of scuffles."

Chloe sighed, gently grasping Beca's palm, taking in the damage. "You're bleeding."

"Huh." Beca observed her knuckles. "Must've caught a tooth."

Chloe shook her head. "Where's your first aid kit?"

"Bathroom, top shelf," Beca answered.

Chloe disappeared, and Beca heard her rummaging around before the redhead reappeared, first aid kit in hand. She descended down beside Beca on the couch, taking the DJ's injured left hand in hers.

Beca grinned at the intense look of concentration on Chloe's face. "What's the diagnosis, Dr. Beale?"

Chloe giggled carefully inspecting Beca's hand, turning it this way and that. "Well, I certainly would advise against punching anything else any time soon, but I think you'll live."

She rummaged into the first aid kit, taking some alcohol and cotton balls from the depths. Beca hissed as the alcohol hit her open wound, and Chloe carefully cleaned the cut, dabbing healing ointment and second skin over the split knuckle.

Beca smiled at the tender care taken to her hand, Chloe manipulating everything deftly and surely. "You're good at this."

Chloe laughed. "I watched my mom a lot," she revealed. "The boys got into a lot of scrapes when we were kids. There was nothing she couldn't fix." Chloe considered that point. "Well, nothing outside of anything that needed a hospital visit. We had a bunch of those as well."

Beca grinned. "So you evolved from singing to make things better?"

Chloe laughed. "As much as I wished it were so, singing doesn't have magical healing properties." She patted Beca's hand. "Alright, _Million Dollar Baby_. All patched up."

Beca lofted her hand, turning the puppy eyes on Chloe, her lip protruded in the barest of pouts. "Kiss it better?"

Chloe smirked, scooting closer and leaning down. She placed herself nose to nose with Beca, their lips millimeters from touching.

Beca inhaled sharply. "I meant my hand."

"Are you complaining?"

Beca shook her head. "No. Definitely not."

"So what are you waiting for?" Chloe murmured against Beca's lips.

They twisted up in a wry smirk. "Someone to come in and interrupt us."

Chloe giggled and lingered obligingly for a few moments before she started to grow impatient. "I think we're good."

"Yeah?" Beca's nose began teasingly brushing against Chloe's, the contact causing the barest ghosting of lips against lips.

Chloe nodded. "Might want to get on with it just to make sure though."

Beca obeyed, closing the miniscule gap between them. As her mouth fit over Chloe's, the shockwave started at their connection and resonated through every pore of her body, followed by a potent warmth that drew all coherent thought from her brain. She groaned as Chloe pressed closer to her, the redhead's hands tangling in her hair as a delicate kitten tongue caressed the seam of her lips. Beca deepened the kiss, her hands palming Chloe's hips, tracing the generous curves at her fingertips.

Beca pulled back and breathed out, "We should have done that a while ago."

Chloe giggled. "Well, it wasn't for a lack of trying." She leaned in, teasing Beca with feather-soft nips to her lips. Her teeth scraped gently along Beca's jawline, nibbling ever-so deliciously against the pale skin.

"Wait," Beca mumbled, pulling away slightly. "What are we doing? What is this?"

"Let's not worry about that," Chloe countered, her voice muffled by Beca's neck. "It's been clear from the start that there's something between us. Let's just go with it and see where it takes us."

Beca couldn't find a single objection to that line of thinking. "Okay with me."

xxx-xxx-xxx

It was uncomplicated…but yet it wasn't.

It was easy…but yet it wasn't.

It was _different_…but yet it wasn't.

As November bled into December, and Beca's first semester was drawing to a close, they fell into some sort of arrangement, unidentified and never really addressed. It was a friendship, but yet it was more. It wasn't quite a relationship, but yet it wasn't that much less. It was like there was a line drawn firmly between them, and while they flirted with crossing the boundary, neither seemed willing to do so. Still, Beca couldn't argue with how things were presently. Things really weren't that much different than they were before.

Like how, at the present, Chloe had once again managed to drag her to the library to study. Chloe buried her head in an Anatomy textbook and her corresponding notes and lecture slides as Beca hunkered down in front of her laptop, glaring at the meager contents of her Philosophy paper that was due at the end of the semester.

As Beca growled at her screen for the third time in a minute, Chloe glanced up in amusement, seeing the DJ glare petulantly at her laptop.

"Why don't you just talk to Dr. Graham?" she offered. "Maybe she can help you figure something out?"

Beca looked befuddled at the notion. "I can do that?"

"Oh, gosh, I forget how new you are to this whole college thing." Chloe chuckled. "Yeah. Most professors are good about being accessible to students. I've heard Dr. Graham is especially good about it. And she's super approachable. Just go to her after class or something."

Beca shook her head. "I don't know, there's always a huge group of people waiting for her."

"You can always go during her office hours," Chloe suggested.

"Office hours?" Beca's brow furrowed. "What are office hours?"

Chloe's grin widened at Beca's completely dumbfounded look. "Basically every Barden professor is required to set aside a couple of hours twice a week for any students to come by and ask questions. Or you can just shoot her an email and schedule a time to meet her."

Beca blinked. "You can do that?"

"If you had bothered to read the syllabus, you would have known so," Chloe remarked with a look.

"Man," Beca commented. "I wonder what else I've missed…"

Chloe giggled, shaking her head. "It's called communicating, sweetie," she drawled. "You might not believe it, but the professors aren't out to make getting a good grade as difficult as possible. If you talk to them, they're pretty good about letting you know what you need to do."

Beca snorted, plopping her head on her upraised palm. "Sorry, most of my interactions with academics haven't put them in the best light." She deepened her voice to mimic a conversation she had with one of her father's colleagues. "'Oh, you're Warren's daughter? What area of study are you focusing on? Oh…you're not an academic? Well…that's nice then…'"

Chloe's brow furrowed. "Have they really said that to you?"

Beca shrugged. "We stopped by my dad's house on Thanksgiving before we went to yours. That was the bulk of the conversations."

Chloe frowned. "Do they not know what you do?"

"Even if they did, I doubt it's impressive to them," Beca remarked. "It's like just because I'm not following in my dad's footsteps, I'm not worth their time. I mean heaven forbid the great and amazing Warren Mitchell's daughter is anything but as great and amazing a professional bookworm as he is." Beca grunted, balling her hands into fists. "Seriously, though? The man is a…book-sniffing…dictionary-mouthed…library-dwelling _mole rat, and_ _yet he is God and us mere non-academic mortals are nothing but dirt on his boot_." Beca paused as she noticed she had risen from her seat and was currently shouting into the quiet of the library, drawing wide-eyed stares from the few students in their area.

"You sound like you hold a grudge," Chloe deadpanned, gazing amusedly up at the DJ's red face, wild eyes, and heaving chest.

Beca deflated and plopped herself back down on her chair. She folded her arms on the table, propping her chin on top. "Just a bit."

"And no one acknowledges the fact you're widely successful?"

Beca snorted. "Something as uncouth and unbecoming as _popular music? _Please._"_

Chloe shrugged. "Their loss. Just because you don't have their advanced degrees and fancy titles doesn't mean you're unintelligent. You've proven time and time again you're far from stupid."

"It just sucks, you know?" Beca murmured, sobering. "I resent the hell out of him for walking out on me and my mom, but there's still such a part of me that's the little girl who just wants Daddy to be proud of her."

"They're not mutually exclusive, you know," Chloe reasoned. "You can still have that desire. It's only human. It's only natural you want him to share in the success you've achieved."

"You think earning this degree would make him proud?" Beca ventured.

Chloe smiled. "I don't think you should earn this degree for him," she commented. "I think you should earn it for _you_."

xxx-xxx-xxx

Beca exited her Biology lecture with Denise – she had found out they shared the class a couple of weeks ago; it was easy to lose people in the hundred-fifty or so students in the section – and entered the student union to meet up with the rest of the new Bellas. As they grabbed their food, descending down at a table, Fat Amy spoke up for the rest of the girls.

"Okay, it's official," she stated, rotating in her chair to face Beca. "We're staging a _coup d'état_." Amy waggled her eyebrows. "Keep your knickers on, girls. I know French mixed with my Tasmanian accent is too much to handle."

Beca looked up from where she was nose-deep in a rather scrumptious steak burrito. "Excuse me?"

"We're taking over our next performance," Amy clarified.

The burrito fell with a muted thump onto the foil wrapping as Beca mumbled around her mouthful. "Wait, what?"

"It's obvious Aubrey's dead-set on keeping us in the eighties," Cynthia Rose remarked. "We know for sure she's keeping the exact same arrangement for Semis."

"So if we're gonna do this, we've gotta do it right," Ashley cut in. "There's no way we can win doing the same set twice."

Beca looked from each girl, shaking her head. "So, wait, you're just gonna, what? Hijack the entire thing and hope for the best?"

"Look, we just scraped by at Regionals, and that was only fueled from my innate Fat Amy sexual energy radiating from deep within the formation," Amy scoffed. "There's no way we'll be able to do that at Semis. I've got to save some for my boyfriends back home."

"Guys, I don't necessarily disagree with you, but we can't just take over the performance," Beca protested.

"You know Aubrey's planning to have us do the exact same set for Semis," Cynthia insisted. "There is absolutely no way that's going to fly with the judges!"

"So your solution is to go behind Aubrey's back and break out something completely different?"

Seven heads nodded in unison. It would have been funny…but it kind of wasn't.

"The next competition is in February," Jessica spoke up. "That gives us plenty of time to figure out how to work our version so that it matches with the set."

"Look," Denise cut in. "You have a mix for us, don't you?"

Beca worried her bottom lip. "Well, yeah…but…"

Cynthia Rose held out a hand, halting any other hesitation. "Hand it over. We'll take care of the rest." She hitched a thumb to Stacie. "Stacie's really good at choreography." At Beca's cocked eyebrow – Aubrey had mentioned Stacie's lack of timing at least once a rehearsal – Cynthia shrugged.

"Girl can dance."

Stacie nodded concurrently. "It's like an 'on three' or 'after three' problem," she divulged.

"I still don't get how you can pull a 4.0 GPA with Pharm-Sci as your major with the things that come out of your mouth," Amy mused.

Stacie shrugged, crossing her long legs. "Science is easy. Real life is hard. Science just makes sense to me. Some stuff just doesn't."

"Like the timing of dance steps?"

Stacie just shrugged again.

"Look, Beca, we've tried everything," Cynthia Rose reminded her. "Aubrey won't even listen to _Chloe_, and Chloe's the only other person with any sort of sway."

"Guys, I don't know," Beca hedged. "Maybe you just need to lean more on Chloe…maybe she can get through to Aubrey."

The seven other girls exchanged looks. Cynthia Rose shook her head. "Sorry, Beca. We're beyond negotiation now."

Amy nodded solemnly. "Desperate times call for desperate measures."

Beca struggled with her decision, eyes shifting from each expectant face. Hesitantly, she rummaged through her backpack, withdrawing the flash drive and handing it over.

"I sure hope you guys know what you're doing…"

Cynthia Rose grinned. "Oh, don't worry, B. We know _exactly_ what we're doing."

Somehow, Beca wasn't sure about that assertion.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Beca slunk into the Arts and Humanities block of campus, locating the Philosophy building. She wasn't sure what to expect when she ascended the stairs to the professors' wing.

Immediately, she could tell the difference. Dr. Graham's office was a whole other universe compared to her father's. It was warm and open, full of color and life. She could see all kinds of art and family photos adorned on the wall, trinkets from Dr. Graham's travels littering the shelves.

Dr. Graham looked up at Beca's knock, greeting her with a warm smile. "Ah, Miss Mitchell. Please come in."

Beca descended down into the chair across from Dr. Graham, setting her backpack at her feet. "Thanks for meeting me."

"No problem. I'm always happy to help a student." Dr. Graham leaned forward, giving her student her full attention. "How has your semester been?" She shot out a wry smile. "I would imagine this world where your father is so prevalent is quite a different pace than the glitz and glamour of Los Angeles."

At Beca's wide eyes, Dr. Graham chuckled, shaking her head.

"Oh, my dear, while I admit a vast majority of my colleagues are fuddy-duddies, I do have a fairly comprehensive understanding of the trends of the contemporary time."

Beca chuckled. "I resent being called a trend."

Dr. Graham smiled. "While what you've accomplished in a short amount of time is quite impressive, we should probably wait a couple more years before anointing you a legacy," she teased with a wink.

Beca grinned. "Fair enough. Thanks for that."

Dr. Graham folded her hands on her desk. "Well, how may I help you?"

"I'm sure you've been hearing this a lot, but I'm having trouble writing my term paper."

Dr. Graham nodded. "Okay. What exactly are you having trouble with?"

Beca huffed, shaking her head. "I guess I'm having trouble narrowing down what my 'Why?' could be."

Again, Dr. Graham nodded her understanding. "That's fine. You're certainly not the first. Let's talk about it," she suggested. "What have you thought of so far?"

"Okay…" Beca breathed out. "Well, at first, I thought that I'd write about music, mostly because my life revolves around music."

"That sounds good," Dr. Graham encouraged. "Why not?"

Beca shrugged. "I mean, I talked with a good friend of mine, and I guess a part of me really didn't want to be predictable. And a bigger part of me knows that there's more to me than just music."

"Maybe you're thinking too broad," Dr. Graham advised. "There is no set time period for this paper. The span of your 'Why?' doesn't have to cover the entirety of your life. It can be a current 'Why?', something that you've just encountered. It could be a 'Why?' you've figured out a long time ago, and you just want to share. It can even be a 'Why?' that you might not necessarily answer fully, but you're just trying to work towards that answer."

"Okay…" Beca digested that. "So what's the point of the paper? To figure out your personal why?"

Dr. Graham laughed. "This is philosophy," she reminded Beca. "As a student of philosophy and an amateur philosopher, essentially you're trying to figure out the entire universe. And, naturally, the universe includes you."

"So…" Beca fidgeted in her seat. "I heard that whatever I choose to write this paper about is supposed to tell me a lot about myself. Is that true?"

Dr. Graham smiled. She leaned forward in her seat. "Beca, the truth is, for all the ways that philosophy tells you to think and how to think how you actually end up thinking is completely up to you."

"All you academics are like that, aren't you?" Beca grumbled. "All cryptic and stuff."

"Well, Beca, as an educator, it is my job to force you to think." Dr. Graham shrugged. "What good is simply telling you the answer? You have to know _why_ that's the answer."

Beca sighed, grabbing her backpack. "This is why I never wanted to go back to college. I didn't want to think at all."

Dr. Graham laughed. "I apologize for complicating that aspiration."

Beca shrugged. "It's alright. I guess I had to use my brain eventually. It may have been a coerced instance, but may as well be for a good purpose."

Dr. Graham waved a finger in solidarity. "That's the spirit."

Beca rose, shouldering her bag onto her back. "Thanks, Dr. Graham."

Dr. Graham nodded. "If you have any other questions, I'm here."

Beca returned the nod, heading towards the door.

"Beca?"

Beca turned around, meeting Dr. Graham's twinkling eyes. Her philosophy professor shot out a conspiratorial smile.

"Your father talks about you all the time. You'd be surprised how much of the faculty is aware of who you are."

Beca's mouth opened…then closed, unsure of how she should respond. Finally, she merely nodded, exiting Dr. Graham's room.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Deep in her thoughts of her exchanges with Dr. Graham words and the Bellas, Beca walked into the rehearsal room before their scheduled time. A guilty pang coursed through her heart as she pondered what the other girls were planning. On one hand, it was genius, definitely the change they needed, but on the other hand, it was slightly underhanded in that they were going behind Aubrey's – and subsequently Chloe's – back.

She stopped in front of the old piano by the whiteboard and sat in front of it. Wiggling her fingers, she placed her hands atop the black and white keys, playing a rudimentary set of scales. Her parents allowed her to take lessons for two very contrasting reasons: her mother to fuel her daughter's love of music, her father because it was something prestigious to counteract his child's misfit persona. She hadn't played in awhile, but it was one skill that had never really left her. To her slight chagrin, Beca found she loved the sound of the black and white keys melding together.

Beca thought for a moment before rummaging through her bag, bringing out her laptop. She scrolled through her files and found the complementary track. A tap of the spacebar and the strumming of cello strings sounded through the speakers. Beca settled in front of the keys before her fingers started moving, accompanying the strings, and the familiar melody of Taylor Swift's "Love Story" flowed from the piano keys.

_We were both young when I first saw you  
I close my eyes and the flashback starts:  
I'm standing there on a balcony in summer air_

_See the lights, see the party, the ball gowns_  
_See you make your way through the crowd_  
_And say, "Hello"_  
_Little did I know_

_That you were Romeo, you were throwing pebbles_  
_And my daddy said, "Stay away from Juliet"_  
_And I was crying on the staircase_  
_Begging you, "Please don't go"_  
_And I said_

_Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone_  
_I'll be waiting; all that's left to do is run_  
_You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess_  
_It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"_

So caught up in her the music and the notes flowing from her fingers, Beca didn't notice the second presence with her as Aubrey entered the rehearsal space. The blonde stopped in her tracks, her mouth dropping open at the sight of the freshman sitting in front of the piano. She cocked her head, simply listening to the refined, elegant music flowing from the tiny girl she had dubbed "too alternative" as Beca played effortlessly along with the cello in the background.

It was a surprisingly delicate melody, the bridge slowing from the rapid pace of the first few choruses and verses, and Beca seemed to match the tempo with her playing, her fingers flying gracefully over the keys, her body moving with the melody like Aubrey had seen the classical virtuosos do, playing the song not only with their hands, but with their entire bodies. There was a dramatic pause before Beca's fingers moved again, her body flowing gently like a calm wave, her hands almost dancing as they provided added drama to the piece.

But as the song built to the epic climax of the Taylor Swift song, Beca shifted smoothly to match the frenetic pace. The melody raced towards its crescendo, Beca's fingers dancing along the blacks and whites, her eyes closed and feeling the music as it built, almost in counterpoint with the gentle strokes of the supplementary cello. Just as it seemed like the melody had swelled to bursting, she shifted again, transitioning to a different artist, and the mellow strands of Coldplay's "Viva La Vida" sounded.

_I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing  
Roman Cavalry choirs are singing  
Be my mirror, my sword and shield  
My missionaries in a foreign field_

_For some reason I can't explain_  
_I know Saint Peter won't call my name_  
_Never an honest word_  
_But that was when I ruled the world_

_I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing_  
_Roman Cavalry choirs are singing_  
_Be my mirror, my sword and shield_  
_My missionaries in a foreign field_

_For some reason I can't explain_  
_I know Saint Peter won't call my name_  
_Never an honest word_  
_But that was when I ruled the world_

The music built again, transitioning to the Coldplay song's climax, and the complementing track echoed with the chorus of voices lending itself to the melody. As the song waned to its natural completion, Beca slowed, bringing the medley full-circle back to the light, melodic beginning of "Love Story".

_'Cause we were both young when I first saw you _

"What song is that?"

"Geeze!" Beca jumped, whirling sharply. "Aubrey, you scared the shit out of me."

"Sorry." The Bellas captain approached slowly, coming to a stop in beside the piano. "I didn't know you played."

Beca shrugged. "Something I picked up when I was a kid." She shot Aubrey a conspiratorial smirk. "Who knew the alt girl could play something as dignified as the piano, right?"

Aubrey shrugged. "Will wonders ever cease?" She tilted her head at the smaller girl. "Chloe did say you were full of surprises…"

Beca chuckled. "And _she_ hasn't even cracked the surface."

Aubrey nodded to the piano. "What song were you playing?"

"A medley of Taylor Swift's 'Love Story' and Coldplay's 'Viva La Vida'."

Aubrey surveyed Beca as though she was seeing the brunette for the first time. "Did you do that arrangement yourself?"

Beca nodded slowly. "It's kind of my thing," she hedged vaguely. "I know a guy…really amazing talent, really. He beatboxes like no one else I've ever heard before, but even cooler, he's a really amazing classical musician. Anyway, he did the cello part for me. Turned out pretty sweet."

"It was good," Aubrey offered, sounding almost astonished at the fact.

"Thanks." Beca cocked her head with a smirk. "Believe it or not, I have tastes that expand beyond popular and current music." Beca's voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. "I can even _read_ music."

Aubrey smiled. "I'm surprised you can see the notes through all the eyeliner," she quipped.

Beca grinned. "Dude, not bad. You totally zinged me."

"You sound so surprised every time I prove I have a sense of humor. I feel like I should be offended."

Beca cocked an eyebrow. "Can you blame me?"

Aubrey huffed ruefully. "I guess not."

Beca looked the blonde up and down. "Can I ask you something?"

Aubrey scrutinized her for a moment before nodding slowly. "Sure."

"Why do you insist on using the same set?"

Aubrey's eyes snapped fiercely to Beca's, but she relaxed as she saw nothing but genuine curiosity in the other girl's gaze. She deflated, flicking a finger through her hair absently.

"You saw the video, right? Of me…?" she trailed off, the implication clear.

Beca nodded. "Yeah."

"That was the single most humiliating moment of my life," Aubrey mumbled, descending down on the piano bench beside Beca. She stared down at her hands. "I had finally been given a solo and…" Aubrey sighed. "I guess I just felt the pressure to perform, especially with Nationals on the line."

Beca's brow furrowed. "Why? You're normally good onstage. What was different that time?"

"Let's just say that the old Bellas weren't as flexible in their standards as we are now," Aubrey remarked. "It was the first time I was even _considered_ to do something other than harmonizing in the background."

"This is flexible?" Beca joked.

Aubrey chuckled ruefully. "After last year, we had to be or we wouldn't have _anyone_."

Beca rolled her eyes. "Nice to know you settled."

Aubrey shrugged. "You guys are all talented, don't get me wrong, but we had a certain look before, and none of this year's group would have even been allowed to _audition_ with the old group, let alone been considered to join." Aubrey grinned suddenly. "Although, I admit it would have been fun to see you go up against our old captain Margo."

Beca cocked an eyebrow. "That doesn't sound like a ringing endorsement from you."

"She…" Aubrey fumbled for delicate terminology before sighing her defeat. "She was a bitch. She liked to rule with fear and intimidation with a healthy dose of insults. I had just enough talent to make it, Chloe had egg breath…but we were good. It almost made it worth it."

Beca tilted her head, a clear but gentle challenge. "Did it?"

Aubrey shrugged but didn't comment. "Anyway, I guess I see this year as my redemption," Aubrey divulged. "Like if I can win with the same set, it would have made everything that came from 'Pukegate' worth it…"

"Because you did it when they couldn't."

Aubrey nodded slowly. "Yeah."

"But why do it their way?" Beca asked. "Why not do it better _our_ way?"

Aubrey's mouth twisted wryly. "Because I don't _know_ any other way," she admitted. "And it scares me to try."

"Why?" Beca persisted.

Aubrey's expression grew melancholy. "Because I'm my father's daughter," she revealed. "And he always said, 'If at first you don't succeed, pack your bags.'" Aubrey's eyes plummeted to the ground.

"I guess it resonated more than he ever knew." Aubrey glanced up as the rest of the Bellas started filing into the room, and moved toward the whiteboard to write the agenda for the day's rehearsal down.

Beca merely stared after blonde, her brow furrowed as she turned over this new information in her head.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Chloe let herself into the apartment, calling out to the occupant. "Beca?"

"Hey! In here."

Chloe followed the voice to the other room and popped her head in to find Beca hunched over her computer, her mouse clicking rapidly, dragging and moving sound clips across the screen. A notepad sat to her left, scribbles scattered along the page. Beca cradled a pen in her left hand, her index and middle fingers wiggling the writing instrument to the beat of the mix blaring through the speakers.

Beca bit her lip, the toes of her Chuck Taylors tapping anxiously against the floor. A click of her mouse halted the track, and she looked down to her notepad, scrawling another line.

Chloe sidled in to stand behind the DJ, wrapping her arms around Beca's shoulders as she pressed a kiss to the other woman's cheek. "Not gonna lie, this is totally sexy."

Beca chuckled as she manipulated the strip of sound within the window, Chloe's flowery perfume wafting in her nostrils as the redhead pressed against her back, eyes following Beca's work.

"I'm not doing anything special," she revealed, typing a few commands into the computer, her fingers moving almost subconsciously so that the music flowing through her mind would manifest itself onto the track on the screen. "Just making some new mash-ups for any future gigs."

"It's like watching Beethoven craft the Ninth Symphony," Chloe remarked, propping her chin on top of Beca's head. "What songs are you using?"

"I'm not sure I want you to know," Beca teased.

"Why?"

Beca craned her head back so she could catch Chloe's eye and winked. "Because, in Jesse's terminology, you might go all squiddy on me."

Chloe's face lit up with recognition. "Oh! Are you using 'Titanium'?"

"I am," Beca affirmed.

"What are you mashing it up with?"

"'500 Miles' by The Proclaimers," Beca responded. She clicked the mouse, and some of the mix began playing.

"How do you think of these things?" Chloe asked.

Beca shrugged. "I don't know," she answered honestly.

Chloe cocked an eyebrow. "Really?"

Beca grinned. "Really," she affirmed. "I wish I could tell you there's some super technical and complicated process I go through, analyzing BPMs and breaking apart chord progressions, but there really isn't."

"So how does it go?"

Beca shrugged again. "It's really not that complicated, honestly. Sometimes I'll hear a beat in my head or sometimes a sound will trigger something in my mind, then I build the track from there." She shook her head. "There's no definitive answer," she revealed. "You just have to listen to the things around you to hear the music."

Chloe nodded to the screen as the chorus of "Titanium" sounded. "Sing it to me?"

Beca's eyebrow crept upward.

Chloe smirked in a way that had Beca's hair standing on end. She tilted her head. "Not for that reason…well, not really…"

Beca returned the smirk. "You're trouble, Beale."

"Oh, Beca." Chloe let her lips brush against the contours of Beca's cheek. "You have no idea…"

_I'm bulletproof, nothing to lose  
Fire away, fire away  
Ricochet, you take your aim  
Fire away, fire away  
_

Beca squeaked as Chloe moved to stand in front of her. The redhead lowered herself into the DJ's lap. A coy look on her features, she dipped her head down, attaching her lips to the curve of Beca's jaw. Beca groaned as Chloe's alternation of nibbles and suction made her eyes roll to the back of her head.

_You shoot me down but I won't fall  
I am titanium  
You shoot me down but I won't fall  
I am titanium_

Beca blew out a ragged breath as Chloe began a slow, rolling grind against her lap, her body writhing to the beat of Beca's sung melody. "Geeze, you are so freaking hot."

Chloe giggled, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Told you that song really builds…"

"You are putting such dirty thoughts in my head," Beca mumbled.

"Well, the beauty of this arrangement we have is you can actually act on them, you know…" Chloe smirked knowingly. "In fact…" her hips pressed down in the slightest of rolls, "I would prefer it."

Beca groaned, succumbing to Chloe's wiles, wrapping a hand around her neck, tugging the redhead down to meet her lips. Beca could feel Chloe's giggle as the redhead returned the kiss, parting her lips to accept the gentle invasion of Beca's searching tongue.

Chloe deepened the kiss, tangling her hands in the lapels of Beca's button down, whimpering against the DJ's lips as Beca's nimble fingers snuck beneath her shirt to splay across the small of her back, the other hand drifting down to cup Chloe's thigh.

Beca hissed out a throaty growl as Chloe began to writhe in her lap again, and she muffled a deep moan in the velvet skin of Chloe's slender neck. Her teeth scraped against the delicate softness, soothed by a searching tongue. Her hands meandered upward, taking Chloe's shirt up and over her head, leaving Chloe in a gorgeous purple, silk bra. Her eyes widened as she took in the golden globes showcased so nicely.

Tentatively, Beca leaned forward, her tongue flicking out to taste the skin tempting her so deliciously. Running her lips over the tempting swells of Chloe's breasts, she watched as Chloe's eyes fluttered close, the redhead's mouth falling open in a silent gasp. Vaguely, Beca heard a ringing in her ears, but through the lusty haze combined by her lapful of Chloe Beale, she dismissed the noise as a product of her imagination.

"Beca…"

"Hmmm?" Beca mumbled around a mouthful of Chloe's skin.

"Your…oh…" Chloe hissed, vaguely gestured to the desktop. She whined her protest, cupping Beca's face and swallowing the DJ's moan with a desperate kiss.

The phone kept ringing, the insistent tone cutting into Beca's sensual desire. Finally, Beca wrenched her mouth from Chloe's and fumbled for her phone, answering the call with a growled, "WHAT?!"

"Geeze, Mitchell, cool your jets!"

"I have a very hot, half-naked redhead in my lap, Jules!" Beca bellowed. "This better be something akin to the fucking apocalypse! Zombies better be prowling down Santa Monica! A vampire cult better be taking over Grauman's or something equally as disastrous and devastating!"

"Does Madonna count?"

Beca shot straight up, nearly upending Chloe in her lap. "Shut the front door."

Jules's voice was without mirth. "Seriously."

"Shit, really?!"

"Yup! You have that track ready?"

"Oh…but…" Beca looked to the redhead straddling her thighs. "_Redhead_…"

"Dude, Beca!" Jules's bark brought Beca back to reality. "No offense, but we're talking the Queen of Pop."

"Alright, alright, just give me a second."

"Really? Your stamina's that bad?"

"Fuck you, Jules!" Beca shot back.

"Hard pass, dude. Hard pass."

"Alright. Hang on." Beca turned apologetic eyes to Chloe. "I'm really sorry, but…"

"Madonna." Chloe nodded with a grin. "Yeah, I heard. I'll just hang out in your room." She dismounted from Beca's lap. Leaning over the DJ's shoulder, Chloe nipped Beca's neck.

"By the way? The fact you're working with Madonna is such a turn on. I'll be thinking of that while listening to 'Titanium'."

Beca's jaw dropped as she watched the redhead swagger out of the room.

A whistle sounded through Beca's phone. "Damn, Mitchell. Red's smoking hot…My bad."

Beca glared at the device. "Jules, you suck hard."

"My bad, dude. Totally my bad."

xxx-xxx-xxx

A couple of days later, the Bellas gathered at Beca's for a movie night, plopping themselves in the living room with a healthy plethora of snacks, candy, and drinks. Cynthia Rose crouched in front of Beca's entertainment center, perusing the DVD titles stacked neatly by the large, flat screen television.

"You know, for someone who hates movies, you sure have a lot of them."

"Most of them are Jesse's doing," Beca snorted. "He insists on bringing me some of the best 'scored' movies of all-time, in his opinion. Some of them are random ones I've collected here and there. I really do hate movies, but I'm fully aware that I am a distinct minority. I keep them around for when I have people over."

"Yo," Cynthia Rose breathed out, taking one of the DVDs out of the slots. "How do you have a copy of _Les Mis_? This isn't out until Christmas!"

Beca shrugged. "I know someone who knows someone."

"How was it?" Aubrey asked.

"It's kind of disappointing, to be honest," Beca mumbled absently. "Too many close-action shots, not as grandiose as I expected…and Russell Crowe really can't sing." Beca waved a hand. "I know it's a sung-though musical, but it didn't translate well. The one thing I did enjoy was how they actually melded elements of both the novel and the stage musical."

Deafening silence followed, and Beca's head popped up. She took in the wide-eyed looks. "What?"

Chloe's eyes had narrowed in her direction. "Are you telling us badass Beca Mitchell is a closet theatre nerd?"

Beca shook her head vigorously. "I am saying no such thing."

"I don't know," Amy drawled. "That was a little in-depth for the casual viewer…especially one who hates movies."

Beca shrugged with a blush. "Picked it up somewhere."

Cynthia Rose straightened, craning her head towards the DJ. "Okay, I have to ask, are you like some super genius or something?"

Beca's eyebrows shot skyward as she met the inquisitive gaze. "What?"

"That happens a lot," Cynthia Rose remarked. "You break out some random ass skill that seems to come out of nowhere and say it's 'something you picked up somewhere'."

Beca's brow furrowed. "What?"

"Like that one time we were at Fitz's, and the waiter forgot to pop the bottle cap for me," Cynthia Rose recalled. "You used the side of the table to pop the cap. You said it was 'something you picked up somewhere'."

Beca waved a hand. "I don't do it that often."

"No, Black Beauty's got a point," Amy cut in. "You said that when you told me that a single pair of Elvis's underpants has an estimated value of $1,300. I'm not quite sure why you mentioned that unless you're trying to tell me something I don't know. I mean, I was already aware of the fact my grandmother charmed Elvis out of his briefs. That's old news."

"Or when you knew _Miranda v. Arizona's_ significance," Aubrey added.

"There was that one time you jimmied the door to our dorm when we locked ourselves out," Ashley piped up, gesturing to herself and Jessica.

"And you gave directions to that one tourist in French," Jessica supplied.

"Or how you told me a female praying mantis has to rip off the male praying mantis's head off in order for them to have sex in our Biology lecture," Denise remarked.

Chloe shrugged as all eyes rested upon her for her input. "I've got too many instances of that to name them all."

"Or when you said your record for most orgasms given was five, and you wanted to break that record with me," Stacie added. At Beca's fervent gesturing, she paused. "Oh, was I not supposed to mention that?"

Beca blanched then reddened, running a hand through her hair. "I'd prefer if you didn't."

Stacie grinned sheepishly. "My bad."

"Whoa, pump the breaks," Amy cut in, gesturing between the two girls. "You two slept with each other?!"

"It was hood night, and we were drunk," Beca mumbled.

"It was hot, but it didn't mean anything," Stacie assured everyone. "It's not like I was Treble-boned. Besides, Beca's totally hung up over Chloe…"

Again, Beca's head popped up. "Stacie!"

"Oh…was I not supposed to mention that, either?" Stacie's brow furrowed. "I mean, I thought everyone knew. You two are kind of obvious."

From the other side of the room, Chloe shot Beca a look that clearly meant 'We're talking about this later'.

"So what gives, Mitchell," Cynthia probed. "Are you some like kid genius or something?"

Beca snorted. "No, that would be my little brother."

"You have a brother?"

"Half," Beca clarified. "He's my dad and Dr. Gardner's kid."

Aubrey cocked an eyebrow. "Dr. Gardner's your stepmother?"

"Step-_monster_," Beca corrected. "There's nothing 'motherly' about her in regards to me."

"I sincerely apologize," Aubrey remarked solemnly.

Beca grinned.

"Who's Dr. Gardner?" Ashley asked.

"She's a Political Science professor here," Beca explained. "And my dad's wife."

"So that's why you're here?" Aubrey piped up. "Because he teaches here?"

Beca shrugged. "Partly, yeah." She looked at each of the Bellas gazing at her with curiosity. "C'mon, guys, let's not talk about me. Pick someone else."

"Okay, fine." Amy shot a sly look to the redhead beside the DJ. "Chloe. Have you and Beca had sex yet?"

Chloe laughed at the completely mortified look on Beca's face as the brunette buried her head in her hands. She shook her head in response.

"It's gonna be awesome," Stacie remarked with a lascivious smirk. "I would know. First hand experience and all."

"I hate you all," Beca sighed.

Chloe cocked an eyebrow, directing a question of her own to the brunette. "Stacie, craziest place you've had sex in."

Stacie paused in her nail filing, pondering that for a long moment. "On a moving motorcycle on a nearly deserted highway."

Ashley cocked her head. "How did you manage that?"

Stacie considered that for a moment. "A whole lot of balance and really shallow thrusting…"

Stacie's grin grew mischievous, and she gestured to their captain. "Aubrey, most embarrassing crush you've had while at Barden."

The blonde turned bright red, and she ducked her head, mumbling out an answer.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think she asked Lilly," Amy remarked to a chorus of laughter. Even Lilly grinned sheepishly.

Aubrey shot Amy a look before she huffed out a sigh. "Unicycle," she repeated with a wince.

"As in the Treble that rides on a unicycle?" Stacie edified.

Aubrey buried her head in her hands. "Look, it was a moment of weakness freshman year!"

"Do you still have crush on him?" Beca asked curiously.

Aubrey shook her head. "No. He's a nice guy, but Margo – our old captain," she explained to the rest of the Bellas, "put the fear of all things holy in me when she found out."

Chloe nodded sagely. "Let's just say the 'or may your vocal chords be ripped out by wolves' part of the oath was tame compared to what she threatened Aubrey with."

"What was it?"

Aubrey flushed. "She said she would spread a rumor that I don't have a butthole and that everything came out the front."

"Does she make it a point to visit Barden often?"

Aubrey cocked her head. "No, why?"

"Because if she ever comes back on campus, we're gonna jump her and rip her a new one," Cynthia Rose intoned seriously.

There was a chorus of agreement, and Beca didn't want to linger on the fact that she was pretty certain whatever Lilly whispered had "a good set of thumb screws" in its context.

Aubrey smiled. "That's sweet you guys would do that, but it's not necessary."

Beca brought the conversation back to their original subject. "Wait, I wanna know what possibly attracted you to him in the first place?"

Aubrey flushed again. "How he always seems to crash his unicycle…"

Stacie leered. "You mean not his abs?"

Aubrey's flushed deepened. "No, not his abs."

Amy surged forward, a forefinger extended in blatant accusation. "Liar! You admit his ab-u-lous abdominals made your lady parts sing louder than Bumper at the prospect of a naked lady."

Beca grinned as the Bellas began to good-naturedly rib their captain. She liked these girls. Outside of the aca-politics, the combative nature of their rehearsals, and the constant butting of heads within the group, they had gotten so much closer these last few weeks as they started to hang out outside of

Bellas practices. Awesome aca-nerds.

xxx-xxx-xxx

It seemed that she was spending a majority of her time with Beca at her apartment, Chloe mused as she made her way to Beca's for the fifth time that week. She never even announced her presence anymore, merely fitting her key into the lock and proceeding to find Beca in whatever room the brunette was in – most of the time the second bedroom working on some track or mix.

Chloe smirked in amusement as she walked into Beca's apartment to find the brunette sprawled upside down on the couch, her head hovering over the floor and her legs dangling over the back.

"What are you doing?"

"Expunging the secrets of the universe," Beca deadpanned, kicking her legs absently.

Chloe snorted, slinging her bag on the couch. "I think this philosophy class is going to your head."

"Beca?" A petite brunette, her hair arranged into a messy bob appeared from around the corner. "Just got off the phone with one of the late shows. They want a confirmation for your taping. We double-booked that night with another show, though."

"Cancel the late show," Beca sighed. "Guy's a douche. I'm really not up for his asinine and condescending questions." Beca gestured absently to the brunette. "Chloe, this is Vera. She's my personal assistant."

Chloe inclined her head in greeting. "Nice to meet you!"

Vera grinned. "You too." She returned her attention to Beca. "You should know Ray Raymond is coming into town to shoot his next movie."

Beca cocked an eyebrow. "And…?"

Vera cringed. "You might want to know Paige Daniels is one of the stars of the film. She'll also be in town."

Beca wiggled her Chucks, seemingly amusing herself. "Wait, like in town like in LA?"

Vera shook her head slowly. "No…in town like in Atlanta…"

Beca's wiggling halted, and she craned her head towards Vera. "Please say this is an elaborate prank like the time you and Damon saran wrapped the recording booth…"

Vera shook her head. "Sorry…"

"Wait, Paige Daniels?" Chloe piped up. "From that teen show set in Washington DC? What's it called?"

"_On the Hill_," Vera supplied helpfully.

"Yeah…"

Chloe's head snapped to Beca. "You had a thing with her?"

"It wasn't really a thing," Beca mumbled.

Vera snorted. "It was totally a thing," she refuted.

Beca craned her head as the door opened and Damon came in, groceries in hand. "Damon, tell them it wasn't a thing!"

Damon cocked his head. "What wasn't a thing?"

"Beca and Paige Daniels," Vera edified.

"Oh, dude, that was totally a thing."

Beca huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "It wasn't a thing," she insisted petulantly.

xxx-xxx-xxx

A couple of days later, Chloe figured out just how much of a "thing" Beca and Paige Daniels had. She wove through the students spilling from class, heading towards the tree she and Beca had designated 'their spot' so they could grab some lunch. From afar, she could see the back of the familiar purple and black plaid shirt not obscured by Beca's backpack. It was her favorite of the DJ's shirts, worn soft from multiple trips through the washing machine and constant use, one she had pilfered often from the brunette, only to have it stolen back the next time Beca visited her apartment. She stopped in her tracks and cocked her head, noting that a tall, blonde woman, big and dark sunglasses obscuring most of her facial features, already accompanied the tiny brunette. Still, Chloe recognized her immediately. The general public saw her face every Thursday evening in a primetime slot on ABC.

It was clear from Beca's posture that the DJ was not comfortable. She may have carefully arranged her stance into her normal slouch of cool disinterest, but her hands resolutely clutched the straps of her backpack, knuckles white from the strength of the hold. Her mouth was twisted into its obligatory half-smirk, but Chloe could see the tightness at the corners. When Beca released her stranglehold, she kept her hands busy, twisting the bracelets around her wrist, another one of her rare nervous tics.

Deciding to throw the DJ a life preserver, Chloe sidled to Beca's side, bumping the DJ's hip with a grin. "Hey! You ready for lunch?"

"Chloe! Hi! Yes!" The rapid succession of single words, expelled from Beca's mouth in an almost inhumanly high timbre lofted a copper eyebrow skyward, and Chloe leveled an amused look at the comically unsettled DJ.

Chloe could see Beca struggling to maintain her composure, and she continued their conversation as though they weren't standing beside one of the biggest young television stars currently in the business. "Fitz's or do you want to go to Baguettes for sandwiches?"

"Baguettes," Beca answered promptly, which caused another eyebrow raise from Chloe.

"Amy and I went to Fitz's yesterday," she explained. Beca's face flushed slightly. "Let's just say the content of our conversation is gonna make me want to stay away from there for a couple of days. You know how she is."

As Chloe giggled, only imagining how the conversation went, their companion spoke up, unused to having attention shifted away from her. "Becs, who's your friend?"

Chloe could see the inward debate in the fluctuating of Beca's expressions, and Beca's eyes darted from the redhead to the tall blonde. Finally propriety won out over Beca's staunch rally of self-preservation.

"Paige, this is Chloe," Beca reluctantly introduced the pair, unconsciously gravitating towards the redhead as though their physical proximity would create a shield of defense. "Chloe, Paige."

Chloe smiled, maintaining her composure, as though she was introduced to Hollywood starlets all the time. "Hi."

The blonde eyed her for a long moment, and Chloe could tell she was being appraised by an eye that had seen the most glamorous, most beautiful visages Hollywood had to offer. It was a bit unsettling, but Chloe stood her ground, unconsciously lifting her chin in a clear challenge.

Paige threw out a sickeningly sweet smile, flashing a set of straight, white teeth. "Hi."

Beca threw out her own smile, turning deliberately to Chloe. "Are you ready to go?"

Chloe nodded. "Sounds good. My turn to buy, right?"

Beca shrugged. "If you want to. I'm cool with picking up the tab."

Chloe shook her head. "You took us to that steakhouse. I'll grab it this time." A thought flit through Chloe's mind, and she turned to Paige, who was watching the conversation with barely narrowed eyes.

"Would you like to join us?" she offered.

Inwardly, Chloe laughed at the two reactions she received. Beca's head whipped her way, eyes wide with shock, and Paige looked even more taken aback, clearly not expecting the invitation. Paige schooled her features into a pleasant smile.

"I'd love to."

Beca looked from one woman to another, both symbolizing such different times in her life. She saw two very different smiles reflecting back at her. Her eyes narrowed as Chloe's had a lilt of mischief simmering just below its seemingly innocent façade. Her shoulders slumping, Beca merely followed Chloe as she flounced towards the café. Lowering her voice to a whisper, she mumbled under her breath.

"This _cannot_ end well…"

xxx-xxx-xxx

As Beca and Chloe returned to Beca's apartment, Beca was unsure exactly what that whole display was. The lunch shared between the three women was nothing short of painfully awkward. She may not have been well-versed in goings on when it came to the darker, grittier side of the subtle, catty, backhanded methods of war in the girl world, but even Beca knew when a lady pissing contest was going on. Paige and Chloe had subtly sniped at each other from across the table, Beca caught awkwardly in the middle. The redhead took great pride in being the one Beca left with after their impromptu lunch had finished. But as the pair made her way back to Chloe's apartment, Chloe had done a complete one-eighty and lapsed into a thoughtful, solemn silence.

They sunk down on Chloe's comfy, squishy couch, the redhead folding herself into Beca's body. They turned on the television, idly flipping through the channels but not really watching the screen.

Chloe bit her lip, eyes searching Beca's. "Can I ask you something?"

The brunette nodded hesitantly. "Sure."

"What's the deal with you and Paige Daniels?"

"Nothing," Beca answered quickly. "She's absolutely nothing to me." Beca scowled, lowering her voice. "Just a one-night-stand I can't get away from."

Chloe cocked her head. "What do you mean?"

"Okay, you know the show she's on?"

Chloe chuckled. "I think everyone in America knows the show she's on."

"Point taken," Beca conceded. "Okay, well you know the male lead? Cade Lowell?"

"He's hot," Chloe commented absently.

"And he's a cool guy," Beca divulged, tipping over to lay her head in Chloe's lap. "Anyway, I met him while filming that collaboration I did with Whats-Her-Name? The crossover country chick?"

Chloe nodded, her fingers playing with Beca's unruly hair. "Yeah, the one that keeps writing about her boyfriends."

"Yeah, her." Beca wiggled a bit to get herself more comfortable. "Anyway, he played the love interest in the music video, and we got to know each other with all the downtime we had while shooting."

"I did notice you were photographed with him in a couple of times in a few different magazines."

Beca chuckled. "One of my few paparazzi snipes. Well, he invited me around to the _On the Hill_ wrap party for the season. I got drunk…" Beca blushed. "I think you can figure out what happened after that."

Chloe frowned, the image crossing through her mind. "I admit I was jealous," she confessed. "I don't think I've ever felt that way before." She cocked her head. "And I don't think I've also ever had to compete against a television star, either."

Beca shook her head with a scoff. "There's no competition, please." She nudged the redhead with a grin. "You win, hands down. Paige Daniels is just an annoyance that I wish I could be rid of."

Chloe grinned. "That's sweet of you to say." She looked down to Beca, eyes twinkling. "So…"

Beca cocked an eyebrow. "Sooo…?"

"You and Stacie, huh?"

Beca groaned and sat up, her head falling back to the backrest. She turned her head to the woman, bottom lip stuck out in a pout. "Am I in trouble?"

Chloe grinned, propping her head on her hand as she reached out and flicked Beca's lip. "Why would you think that?"

"I was Bad Beca," she admitted sheepishly

Chloe shook her head. "No, you were Horny Beca," the redhead corrected wryly.

"It was a moment of weakness."

"Aided by tequila," Chloe ribbed. She poked Beca in the stomach. "I saw you guys."

Beca straightened, brows drawing together in slight consternation. "How are you not pissed at me?"

Chloe shrugged, turning to face her. "Don't really have a reason to be. It happened way back in the beginning of the year." She cocked an eyebrow. "Would you rather I was pissed?"

"Well, no, not particularly," Beca mumbled. She scrunched her nose, running a hand through her hair. "I'm just not used to this reaction, I guess."

Chloe laughed. "Well, I'm not going to be jealous over something that happened months ago." She leaned in, stilling Beca with a sensual kiss. Beca groaned deep in her throat as Chloe's tongue breached her defenses, twining with hers as pillow-soft lips pulled a whimper from the DJ's throat with each pass. Pulling back with a lick to Beca's lips, Chloe winked.

"Plus, I trust I'll be the one holding your attention from now on."

Beca could only nod dumbly.

Chloe giggled. "Good."

Beca shook herself from her Chloe-induced stupor. "God, you're distracting."

Chloe grinned. "I try."

The DJ surveyed her companion for a moment as coherent thoughts flooded back to her brain. "Can I ask _you_ something?"

Chloe shrugged. "Sure."

"What's the deal with Aubrey and her dad?"

Chloe stiffened, and her eyes snapped to Beca in surprise. "Why do you ask?"

Beca shrugged. "I had an interesting conversation with Aubrey before rehearsals one day. She mentioned her dad, and I noticed I really didn't know much about her."

"Let me tell you about Leland Jethro Posen," Chloe paused, gathering her thoughts. She named a technology company, cocking her head at Beca. "Have you ever heard of it?"

Beca nodded, slowly, "Yeah. It's like one of the biggest tech firms in the country."

"Well, they didn't start that way. They were close to bankruptcy a couple of years ago. They got to where they were because of what Mr. Posen did as a management consultant," Chloe divulged. "The changes he implemented in the company eventually propelled them to the top."

"It makes sense," Beca mused. "He makes a living telling people what to do…"

"…And Aubrey seems to do the same," Chloe finished, a hint of humor in her tone. "Yeah, she gets her hard-charging personality from him, that's for sure."

"So he seems like a dick," Beca commented. "Aubrey quoted him as saying, 'If at first you don't succeed, pack your bags'." Beca threw her arms in the air. "Who the hell says that to their daughter?"

"He wasn't always like that," Chloe divulged. "Just the opposite. He was a great dad. Like how Art is with you."

Beca frowned, taking that in for a moment. "So what happened? I mean, every dad wants their kid to succeed, and every kid wants their dad to be proud of them, but that's some pretty harsh brand of positive reinforcement. Saying 'C'mon, honey, eyes on the prize' is a lot different than 'If at first you don't succeed, pack your bags'." Beca cocked her head. "I mean, isn't it?"

"No, you're right," Chloe agreed. "But when Aubrey's mom died, her dad kind of lost himself," she explained. "That was when he became more demanding. He kind of forgot how to be Aubrey's dad and became more of her boss."

"And bosses don't take failure very well," Beca supplied.

"No, they don't."

Chloe sighed. "Every time Aubrey did something perceived as failure, she threw herself into erasing that failure in an attempt to please her father. I guess ICCAs aren't any different."

"So Aubrey's seeing this year as her last year for what? Redemption?" Beca deduced. "Isn't that placing too much expectation on it?"

"Maybe," Chloe admitted. "But it's practically the only thing Aubrey's got that isn't attached to her father's influence. It's her way to forge her own success that's completely her own."

Beca digested that for a long moment. From the beginning, she had always faced conflict with her father in regards to her dreams as a DJ. But, at the same time she also had the support of her mother and Art to counteract the negative energy and perceptions her father was so quick to disperse. From her understanding, Aubrey had little of that positive reinforcement from the people whose opinions she valued the most.

Beca nodded slowly. "I'm starting to see there's more to Aubrey Posen than I first though," she mused.

"Keep at her," Chloe advised. "You might find she could very well surprise you."

_And…scene! Whew! Man, I thought we weren't going to make it through that one, guys! I'm sorry again for making you wait this long, but sickness is pretty crippling when it wants to be. Next chapter, we break for winter, and Chloe and Beca hit some bumps in their road. When I said it wouldn't be that easy, I certainly meant it! Don't worry, all. We will still have a lot of fun on the journey._

_The songs used in this chapter are "Drown in You" by Daughtry, a medley of "Love Story" by Taylor Swift and "Viva La Vida" by Coldplay, originally done spectacularly by The Piano Guys, and the "Titanium"/"500 Miles" mashup in the film._

_Thanks again to my bud, CJ, for the Beta work!_

_Until next time!_

_*ISP_


	7. Chapter 7

_Whew! Here we are! Another chapter for you Stoners! I am so beyond excited at the response this fic is getting, and I'm glad everyone is having fun with me as we continue on this awesome journey._

_We're heading for Christmas break here, and although Beca and Chloe are starting to settle into their relationship, that doesn't mean the road will be easy for our lovely ladies. Keep that in mind as we continue forward._

_In this chapter, Beca takes a step back away from Barden and returns to her roots where she finds that some things aren't quite the same. Hope you guys enjoy!_

* * *

CHAPTER 7

_The sky is full of clouds and  
My world's full of people  
All different kinds with different ways  
It would take a lifetime to explain  
No one's exactly the same  
He and she, two different people  
With two separate lives_

_Then you put the two together_  
_And get a spectacular surprise_  
_'Cause one can teach the other one_  
_What she doesn't know_  
_While still the other fills a place inside_  
_He never knew had room to grow_

Beca always thought she had people pegged. She prided herself on her human radar. A couple of minutes with a person, and she could fit them into nice little boxes. It was a skill she cultivated through her years in LA, and with her fame serving as a beacon for an infinite amount looking to use her celebrity in her favor, Beca knew when someone wasn't quite on the level.

Beca thought she had certain people cemented. Her father was one, Chloe Beale served as another. But as Beca spent more time around Barden and (much to her chagrin) immersed herself in her college experience, she uncovered the little nuances that had been hidden below the surface, simmering just beneath her initial perceptions, it seemed that people were much more complicated than she made them out to be. She had never come across people that challenged her pretty little package, that were so multi-faceted with so many different layers to peel back.

Or maybe she never interacted with them long enough to truly find out.

xxx-xxx-xxx

As finals week approached, the end of the semester looming, Beca – and subsequently the rest of the Bellas, even Aubrey – threw themselves into preparation for exams. With the Semi-Final rounds not until February, Aubrey offered them a reprieve from the endless monotony of vocal exercises, dance rehearsals, and cardio so that their subsequent college careers would not find themselves spiraling down the toilet.

Beca and Chloe hunkered down in their usual study spot, books and notes strewn across the wooden surface. While Chloe revised her notes for one of her many science courses, Beca looked over her schedule for the next semester.

Chloe sighed, putting down her highlighter. She saw the slight frown on Beca's face as the DJ stared at her computer. "What's wrong?"

Beca wrinkled her nose at her screen. "I'm trying to figure out whether or not I'm an idiot for taking another course with Dr. Graham next semester."

Chloe's eyebrow drifted upward. "You're taking another Philosophy course?"

Beca nodded absently. "_Philosophy 322: Modern Philosophy_," she answered, propping her chin on her palm, clicking through her course options and the section availability. "And I'm trying to see if I can fit in _256: Traditional Logic_ somewhere in my schedule."

Chloe's head tilted. "Are you thinking of pursuing Philosophy as a major?"

Beca's head snapped to Chloe, and her mouth opened to respond. No words came out, however, as she nibbled anxiously on her bottom lip.

"I dunno," she hedged finally. "Maybe?"

Chloe beamed. "I think that's great," she encouraged. "You seemed to really like your Intro class."

"It was cool," Beca admitted. "I didn't think I'd like it, but I guess once I started to get into the subject matter, I really enjoyed the stuff Dr. Graham was teaching."

"You know, I would have thought you would have gone for something in music," Chloe mused.

Beca chuckled, shaking her head. "I don't think I could handle bastardizing my passion for music by making it academic," she remarked. "I'll keep music pure in my mind, thank you very much."

Chloe laughed her agreement. She cast a forlorn gaze at her notes. "I think my brain's fried. You want to head out?"

Beca smirked. "Wrong question," she remarked.

Chloe rolled her eyes. "You know, for someone so averse to studying, you sure get good grades."

Beca shrugged as she gathered her things, shouldering the straps of her backpack on. "As you've so aptly reminded my many times before, I'm not stupid. I just choose to use my brain for something less lame than school." Beca tightened the straps so the pack lay high across her shoulders. "Unfortunately, now my brain is now focused on education." She shot a look at Chloe. "I blame you."

Chloe grinned, slipping her laptop in its sleeve. "I told you, Mitchell, I was going to transform your study habits."

Beca snorted. "Do I get the perks yet?"

Chloe leaned in, brushing her lips across Beca's. "We'll see once we get those grades of yours."

"_Evil_."

As they walked out of the library, heading towards Chloe's apartment, the redhead bumped the hip of her shorter counterpart. "So, once your brain is turned to mush and the semester is over, what are your plans for the holidays?"

Beca shrugged, hands clenching against the straps of her backpack. "Well, I'm not staying here, that's for sure."

Chloe shook her head with a grin. "I didn't think you were."

Beca quirked her head in acknowledgement. "I mean, no offense to Barden, but I'm not looking to spending Christmas with my dad and the step-monster. If Thanksgiving was any indication of how they spend their holidays, I'm sure not willing to subject myself to that."

"So instead," Chloe prompted.

"I'm flying to Brooklyn after my last final to spend Christmas with my mom's side of the family and Art's side," Beca responded. "After Christmas, it's back to LA for some promotional stuff and a couple of commitments I booked before I left. I'll probably stay there until school starts again."

"Anything fun?"

Beca lifted a shoulder. "A couple of recording sessions with some local talent, a couple of shows, and I think there's a new club opening that wants me to spin the opening night."

Chloe sighed ruefully. "Sounds a lot more fun than my plans."

Beca cocked an eyebrow. "Well, what about you?"

Chloe shrugged, and her posture deflated slightly. "We're staying home for the holidays. Hopefully we'll have everyone around again." Chloe sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I just don't know if I can handle the entire break at home."

Beca tilted her head. "Why?"

Again, Chloe shrugged. "Don't get me wrong, I love being with my family, but I can't stay in the house for too long." Her expression shifted, reflecting something Beca had seen before but had yet to be able to identify. "It's…too much."

"So how about you spend New Year's with me in LA?" Beca suggested. "Come down after Christmas, stay at my place, and we'll fly back before the semester starts."

Chloe brightened. "Really?"

"Sure." Beca grinned. "Have you ever been to LA?"

Chloe shook her head. "Nope. Never."

"Perfect time then," Beca urged.

Chloe shook her head. "I don't know, Beca. I couldn't impose on you like that. Plus, I seriously doubt my parents have the money for the flight."

"Don't worry about your flight," Beca countered. "I'll take care of that."

"Beca…"

"Think of it as your birthday present," Beca persisted.

"You know my birthday isn't until the summer."

"So?" Beca flashed her most winning, most charming smile. "Please? So I won't be so lonely?"

Chloe laughed. "Surrounded by the stars of Hollywood, I doubt you'll be hurting for company."

Beca shrugged. "Maybe. But I don't like most of those people." She craned her head up to Chloe's face. "I like you, though."

Chloe stopped, turning towards the other woman. Her eyes searched Beca's for a long moment before her face melted into a wide, brilliant smile. Beca's simple statement, a mere four words, said much more to her than anything else could. Chloe reached out, unwinding Beca's fingers from their hold on the strap of her backpack. She fit her palm into the DJ's smaller one, entwining their fingers securely. Beca's eyes flicked to their joined hands, and for a bare moment, Chloe thought she had blundered. As Beca's gaze drifted back up, however, her face reflected her normal wry, half-smirk.

Beca turned on her heel, continuing their jaunt to the redhead's apartment. "I'll tell Vera to get on it."

Chloe grinned, swinging their hands leisurely to match the cadence of their strides. "You sure you can handle me constantly intruding on your personal space?"

"And how is that any different from how things are normally?"

"Good point."

"Exactly."

xxx-xxx-xxx

Chloe let them into the apartment, chuckling as Beca negligently shouldered off her bag and jacket. Spinning in a circle, she flopped down on Chloe's couch, sprawling out across the cushions. Beca let out a long sigh, stretching out her body.

"My brain hurts. This college stuff sucks."

Chloe giggled, climbing on top of Beca's supine form. She fit herself against the DJ, snuggling into the curve of her neck, an arm around her waist. "What did you expect?"

Beca sighed. "I don't know. I sure didn't expect to _care_ as much."

"You figured 'D's get Degrees'," Chloe deduced, her nose brushing against Beca's skin.

"Well, yeah," Beca admitted, absently running her fingers through copper waves. "C'mon, how else was I supposed to feel when I was essentially blackmailed into coming here?"

Chloe's head popped up. "What do you mean?"

Beca's brow furrowed. "I never told you that part of the story?"

Chloe shook her head. "I'm sure I'd remember it if you did."

"Huh." Beca shrugged. "Well, I told you how I promised my mom before she died, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, my dad was also part of that whole argument," Beca divulged. "I figured that if I became successful enough, I wouldn't have to 'give it the ole college try', you know? That the degree would be worthless to me in the end." She shrugged. "I hoped he'd forgotten about the deal. It'd be characteristic enough."

"I'm guessing not," Chloe mused.

Beca snorted. "Yeah, right. It has to do with school. Of course he didn't forget."

"And I'm sure you fought tooth and nail to avoid coming back."

"Duh," Beca responded succinctly. "What the hell did I need a degree for? I have a lucrative, demanding career. I didn't want distance coming in the way of any potential opportunity."

"Well, considering you nearly bucked me off your lap because Madonna came calling, I'm gonna take a shot in the dark those concerns were unfounded," Chloe commented with a grin.

"Ye-ah." Beca drawled, her own triumphant grin lighting up her face. "But I mean, you really can't blame me, right? It was pretty awesome."

Chloe nodded. "Totally." She shook her head, sighing in awe. "I can't even _imagine_. You must have thought I was so silly talking about how we recorded with Prince when you've done stuff with the likes of Queen."

Beca chuckled. 'No, I thought it was cute. You looked so proud."

Chloe poked Beca with a pout. "Anyway, back to your story. So your dad needed some sort of incentive to lure you back, right?"

Beca nodded. "Exactly. So he has this record collection. It's honestly nothing special. He's got some of the classics, some fairly rare and valuable records, but nothing that would break the bank in value." Beca's eyes grew misty with nostalgia. "But in that collection is one record, my mom's favorite song, that I can't seem to find anywhere."

"And that's what he's leveraging."

Beca sighed. "Yup." She shrugged. "I know, it's kind of stupid, but it's just one more thing I can have of my mother, you know? Something more tangible than memories or tattoos."

Chloe shook her head. "It's not stupid. It's sweet."

"Sweet…" Beca huffed, tilting her head down to the redhead. "I don't know if I can hang with you anymore, Beale. You're totally ruining my rep."

Chloe chuckled roughly, propping herself up on her hands as she gazed down into Beca's dark blue eyes. "Not my fault you're a slave to the goodies, Mitchell."

Beca eyed the cleavage displayed just below her line of vision. "I'm trying really hard to find fault in that mindset."

Chloe smirked wryly. "How's that going for you?"

Beca grinned. "No dice."

Chloe giggled, leaning down to fit her lips over the pulse point in Beca's neck. She sucked languidly, running a palm up Beca's side. "Lucky for me. It means I have leverage."

Beca groaned, arching up into Chloe's touch, her hands clenching in the fabric of the redhead's sweater. Beca tangled a hand into Chloe's copper curls, directing Chloe's mouth to her own, fitting them together. Chloe whimpered as Beca's tongue began to tease hers, stroking in complement to each delicious caress of the DJ's lips.

Chloe expelled a strangled breath, feeling Beca's hands wander, leaving trails of tingling heat in her wake. Each nibble and delicate suction resonated from the starting point of Beca's lips, skipping through each nerve and synapse, to pool at her center rolling lightly against Beca's upraised thigh.

"Oh, I should have known you were a good kisser."

Beca chuckled low in her throat, palming Chloe's hips as they canted and wiggled forward. "I should have known you were addicting," Beca countered. Chloe's hands clenched in the lapels of Beca's flannel as she folded forward, searching out Beca's lips, feeling the DJ's hand clench against the curve of her ass. Chloe could feel her body moving in tandem with Beca's, searching for more friction, more contact, and she moaned her delight as Beca obliged, gently guiding her movement.

"Oh, my aca-gods!"

Beca wrenched her mouth from Chloe's eyes snapping towards the door to the redhead's apartment and was greeted by the sight of Aubrey Posen framed in the entryway.

Beca groaned, her leg flopping down to lie flat on the couch. She lofted her eyes to the heavens, throwing her arms skyward. "Okay, I get it," she called up to the unseen deity. "You don't want me to get laid!"

Chloe giggled, burying her face in Beca's shoulder as the smaller girl hefted herself into a sitting position.

Aubrey stood before the pair, arms crossed over her chest. "So…you two…" She gestured between them with a flick of her finger. "This really is a thing?"

Beca flashed an insolent grin. "Nothing in the oath about relations with a fellow Bella," she reminded the blonde. "I'm safe from wolves feasting on my vocal chords."

"No," Aubrey conceded. "But you do have to contend with me ripping out your heart if you hurt Chloe."

Beca inclined her head. "Fair enough." She stood, gathering her stuff. "I think this is my cue to make my graceful exit and save whatever dignity I have left." Beca shouldered on her backpack and snapped off a lazy salute.

"Later, ladies."

Chloe stood with her. "I'll walk you out."

As Chloe returned a moment later, the smug look on her face and her slightly ruffled appearance giving strong indication just how thorough of a goodbye had transpired, Aubrey cocked an eyebrow to her best friend.

"You guys are dating."

Chloe dismissed that claim with a shrug as she dropped down onto the couch. "I wouldn't call it dating, _per se_."

"I wouldn't call dry humping 'sex' either, but it serves the same purpose," Aubrey countered, an elegant eyebrow tilted expectantly.

Chloe shrugged again. "We haven't really defined what we are."

Aubrey's shrewd green eyes raked over her best friend. "_She_ seems to have defined it." Aubrey descended down on the couch beside Chloe. She waved her phone that displayed a text concerning Chloe's newly realized plans for break. "Booking someone a plane ticket across the country isn't quite within the boundaries of 'casual' or 'undefined', you know."

"It's just Beca being Beca," Chloe defended. "She's generous like that. She gave my family two thousand dollars worth of wine on Thanksgiving."

Aubrey cocked an eyebrow. "And you don't think that means nothing?"

"I think you're looking too much into this," Chloe insisted. She leveled a suspicious look to the blonde. "You know, you're surprisingly defensive of Beca."

Aubrey sighed. "Look, while I understand that Beca and I are naturally going to be combative because of our vastly polarizing visions of the directions we believe this group should go, I can admit that she's not that bad." Aubrey drew in another long, suffering sigh, folding her hands solemnly in her lap. "In fact, I will even go so far as to note I appreciate her inclusion in the group. Her insights, aside from her obstinate desire to change our setlists, are actually very astute."

"Don't hurt yourself, Bree," Chloe remarked drily.

"I still think that if she does away with her ear monstrosities and lightens up on the eyeliner, she would fit the Bellas better, but for some unfathomable reason, you seem to have developed a toner for that…" Aubrey waved a hand, clearly biting down her original terminology, "_look_."

Chloe shook her head with a fond grin. "Different isn't bad, Bree," she reminded the blonde. "We may have had women who embodied ideals of beauty and…whatever in the past, but we never won with them."

Aubrey cocked her head. "And you think we can win with these girls?"

Chloe smiled. She paused for a moment, and Aubrey could see her best friend choosing her words carefully. "I think that if we can't make them fit the Bella mold, maybe rather than trying to change them, we should change the Bella mold."

As Chloe rose to take a shower, Aubrey stayed on the couch. Her brow furrowed as she turned over Chloe's words in her mind. Her head warred with her heart as she truly contemplated exactly what Chloe meant.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Aubrey kept those words in her mind as she led rehearsal the next day. For the first time, she really _looked_ at the girls she had.

Sure, they weren't the 'eight bikini-ready' bodies that Aubrey had pictured when she thought of the next generation of Barden Bellas, but there was something…_unique_ about this group. Individually, there were some great voices. Denise had an impressive lower register that Aubrey wished she could complement with a fuller sound. Cynthia Rose had a great belt, and there was a raspy quality to her voice that brought such flavor to their sets when she sang. And for as much as Aubrey chastised her for breaking choreography, Fat Amy had a magnetic, energetic stage presence that it was always such _fun_ to watch her. It wasn't like they actively resisted the Bella mold. Quite the opposite, actually. They just innately seemed to reject the idea of being shoved into the uniforms, to the scarf around their necks and everything both those articles of clothing represented. They were all just so unabashedly themselves.

This assembly of Bellas was a motley crew; there was no escaping that point. Aubrey could only _imagine_ the choice words Margo would have in regards to this year's group. Aubrey could admit there were days where she truly questioned exactly what she and Chloe were thinking when they made this group the girls they would ride to Nationals.

She stood in front of the board chronicling the groups of Barden Bellas that had preceded them. Each year reflected the same type of girls, girls who epitomized perfection and the Barden Bella way. Perfect figures with that ideal hourglass shape, their uniforms a perfect fit. Perfectly arranged hair, not a stitch out of place, no radical hairstyles or colors. Clean-cut, fresh-faced, All-American women.

As Aubrey thought back to those girls, something stood out stark in her mind. There was no personality. Whatever was there to begin with had been stifled in a chokehold by the yellow and blue Bella scarf wrenched around their necks. With the scarf came the weight of expectations of what it meant to be a Bella woman. And, of course, a Bella woman meant they were a cappella robots bound to the rigid dance steps of their performances.

Despite all of that, it was all Aubrey really knew. How to be a Bella was one of the things she was most secure in. To change so drastically, to swallow her pride and adopt whatever sweeping ideas Beca had towards changing how they operated was like changing her very being, was like undergoing a complete existential evolution. Okay, a little dramatic, but it really was similar to something like that. Plus, there was the matter of Pukegate 2011. The desire to avenge the instance that thrust her into the spotlight as a YouTube sensation burned so fiercely with each day she directed this group. Aubrey Posen strived to do what Margo couldn't, what the Bellas before couldn't. Aubrey Posen was wholly confident she could lead the Bellas to a National title. And she could do it with this ragtag group of misfits. She could mold this motley crew into Bellas, and they would be the last group standing come May at the ICCA National Championship in New York. Then everyone would forget about Pukegate. That would be her lasting legacy, not what happened last year. She was certain about it.

"Aubrey?"

Aubrey jumped, whirling around as Beca appeared at her elbow. The other woman's mouth twisted wryly in that maddening half-smirk.

"Easy, there, tiger. No need to break out the claws. I come in peace."

Aubrey grinned sheepishly. "Sorry. Just got lost in my thoughts."

Beca shrugged. "No worries." She hitched a thumb over her shoulder. "But Chloe's been screeching your name for the last five minutes. Any higher, I'm pretty she's gonna bust a node."

Aubrey directed a glance over her shoulder where, sure enough, her redheaded co-captain was standing with her hands thrust on her hips, glaring in her direction with a disgruntled look on a face nearly as red as her hair.

"Oh…aca-ooops."

Beca's smirk widened. "Yup." She cocked her head thoughtfully, leading Aubrey back to the group. "Didn't know her face got that red…"

xxx-xxx-xxx

As finals week commenced, Beca went through her scheduled tests with no problems…even her dreaded Biology exam that pretty much decided how well she would do in the course. With no other exams scheduled, Beca sat down at her kitchen table to finish her Philosophy paper that was due the last day of finals. She hunkered down in front of her laptop, surrounded by anything and everything she would need for her epic session of academic awesomeness. While normal people might have put in earbuds or headphones so that the music flowing through them would provide center and focus, Beca stayed away from any auditory stimulation, knowing that the moment a good song came on, her mind would churn with mash-up options and track ideas.

Beca glared at her screen, willing the words to appear. She wiggled her fingers over the keys, as though the movement would somehow cause actual contact with the keys so that she could actually type actual sentences. She thought about what Dr. Graham had said, about broadening her spectrum of what her "Why?" could come from.

"_It could be a 'Why?' you've figured out a long time ago, and you just want to share."_

Beca ruled that one out. It would have been the easiest choice, but something compelled Beca against taking the easy way out. She wanted to put out a better product than something that would net her an easy ten pages. She actually wanted to put out a paper that showed how much effort she put into this assignment.

"_It can be a current 'Why?', something that you've just encountered."_

That one was a little more appealing. This entire Barden experience was something that could satisfy the requirements. She had a couple of ideas that could possibly make a good paper, but maybe not something that could fill up the full ten-page minimum.

"_It can even be a 'Why?' that you might not necessarily answer fully, but you're just trying to work towards that answer."_

That was something she could do…that had something she could write a lot about. Once again, this whole Barden experience had completely thrown her for a loop. There were a lot of things she was just figuring out along the way. Just when she thought she had everything figured out in her life, Barden had broadened her perceptions, had challenged a lot of the things she had held as fact. It was unnerving, but she wasn't quite sure if it was good or bad…yet.

Beca cupped her face in her hands, staring hard at the screen. She thought about the latter two points for a long time, digging deep into herself to find that "Why?" that seemed so elusive.

She felt her thoughts drifting to the singular person that seemed to dominate most to all of her subconscious these days. She could see the baby blue eyes, so vivid in their clarity. These days, they were often a shade darker with desire. She could see that gorgeous copper hair she loved to run her fingers through. They provided great handholds during makeout sessions.

Beca shook herself from her fantasy, returning her gaze to her laptop and the open Word document.

"Focus, Mitchell."

As she continued to ponder her options, however, it became increasingly clear exactly where her thoughts were centered, and Beca mentally halted. Her mind churned as she noticed that many of the things she considered as her "Why?" could be traced back to the inclusion of a certain perky redhead into her life. Beca chuckled, shaking her head as – _finally_ – her paper began to take shape.

"You just keep imposing yourself, don't you, Chlo?"

xxx-xxx-xxx

The next day, twelve pages fresh from her printer and neatly stapled beneath the accompanying cover page, Beca ascended the stairs to Dr. Graham's office. Knocking at the door, she breached the threshold triumphantly when Dr. Graham waved her in. Beca lofted her paper with a smug grin, plopping it victoriously into the basket in front of the professor's desk.

Dr. Graham nodded approvingly at the thick sheaf at the top of the pile. "Excellent. You found your 'Why?' alright?"

Beca shrugged. "I found my 'Why?' for now," she edified. She scrunched a hand through her hair. "It wasn't easy."

Dr. Graham smiled. "Still. It's good you managed to find it." She leaned against her desk. "By the way, I was going over my class roster for next semester, and I saw that you signed up for my Modern Philosophy course."

Beca nodded shyly. "I really enjoyed Intro. I think Philosophy might be something I might want to pursue."

"That's great," Dr. Graham encouraged. "Your father will be thrilled you've picked such an academic major."

Beca snorted her disagreement. "I don't know, Dr. G. This might not be good enough for my father." She cocked her head as Dr. Graham started to chuckle. "What?"

Dr. Graham shook her head with an indulgent smile. "Oh, Beca, you certainly underestimate your father. Warren holds this area of study in very high regard. We are excellent colleagues and friends."

Beca's brow furrowed. "That doesn't seem like him…" she divulged. "I mean, no offense, Doc, but I always thought my dad would see this major as too, I dunno, _wishy-washy_ for me to pursue."

"Quite the opposite," Dr. Graham corrected. "My dear, some of the best literature has been written by philosophers. Even most teaching methods today are based upon principles introduced by famous Greek philosophers. You father thinks very highly of philosophy; he comes to me very often to talk discussion points in his courses and the best questions that would make his students really think."

Beca frowned, turning that revelation in her head. "That's…almost mind-blowing," she admitted. The DJ gestured vaguely. "I mean, you're nothing like him. I would have never guessed you two are so close."

Dr. Graham cocked her head. "Well, one certainly wouldn't presume you're your father's daughter, yet here you are."

Beca's nose wrinkled. "I'm sure that's a compliment, but I'm not sure I'm going to take it as such."

Dr. Graham chuckled. "Oh, Beca. You are much more like Warren Mitchell than you think, and the comparison is quite obvious." She smirked. "It's not a bad thing, you know."

Beca snorted, turning towards the door. "Says you."

Dr. Graham only laughed.

xxx-xxx-xxx

"Hi, Beca!"

Just outside of the Philosophy building, Beca jumped, whirling to face Paige as the actress appeared at her side. "Geeze, woman! Are you haunting the campus waiting for me?"

Paige giggled, tossing a meticulously styled wave of curly blonde hair over her shoulder. "You're silly."

"No, I'm _suspicious_," Beca drawled. "Seriously, I already have one stalker. I don't need another."

"I'm doing research," Paige explained. "I never went to college, but I'm playing a college student. I have to understand the life of a college student."

Beca rolled her eyes. "Okay, Daniel Day Lewis. I get it, you're method. And so you just happened to choose Barden as your preferred institution for this film?" Beca cocked an eyebrow. "You know, Georgia's not hurting for big-time universities. There are dozens more you could have chosen that would have given you a better idea of the college experience."

Paige shrugged. "Maybe. But Barden's closest."

"And I'm sure the fact I'm here is bearing absolutely no weight on that decision," Beca mumbled.

Paige smiled slyly, green eyes twinkling. "Rein in the ego, Mitchell. I had no idea you were here."

"Right…" Beca's skepticism was clear in her tone.

"Seriously!" Paige insisted. "Back in LA, everyone knows you're in Atlanta, but no one knows exactly _why_." She cocked an eyebrow. "Not sure everyone would believe it's because you're _actually_ a college student."

Beca snorted. "I'm not sure _I_ believe it's because I'm actually a college student."

"So where are you heading off to?" Paige asked as she followed Beca through campus. She eyed Beca shrewdly as the DJ hitched her backpack higher on her back in a clear stall tactic. "You're meeting that redhead, aren't you?"

Beca glowered. She wasn't sure she liked Paige's tone of voice but chose to ignore it for now. "'That redhead' has a name," she growled. "Her name is Chloe, and whether or not I'm meeting her is none of your business."

Paige shrugged. "I'm just curious." Her voice was sickly sweet and put Beca immediately on edge. Paige adjusted her mirrored sunglasses. Idly, Beca wondered how no one had recognized the starlet yet.

"I mean, it's been years, and I practically need to lasso you if I want to talk to you. All it takes is a couple of months, and I never see you without her or at least going to see her."

Beca shrugged, hands clenching the straps of her backpack. "Is it really that inconceivable that I like hanging out with her?"

"You're not a people person," Paige stated bluntly. "It's hard for anyone to get close to you without having to chisel through whatever it is you protect yourself with."

Beca shrugged again. "Maybe she's different."

Paige cocked an eyebrow. "Clearly."

Both women glanced up as Chloe appeared. "Hey! There you are!" Chloe smiled at the starlet beside Beca. "Hi, Paige."

Paige inclined her head. "Chloe." She returned her attention to Beca. "So, Beca, I hear you played the Lava Lounge a couple of months ago. Any chance I'll get an invite to your next set?"

Beca shook her head. "I'm not even sure when I'll be spinning there next. That gig was kind of short-notice, Paige. I won't be around Atlanta for the holidays. I'm heading to New York for the Christmas then back to LA for New Year's."

Paige brightened. "Well, we break for the holidays. Maybe I'll see you back in LA for New Year's?"

Beca deflated, but just barely. She shrugged. "Maybe," she mumbled noncommittally.

Paige's eyes seemed to twinkle as she surveyed the DJ and the redhead. A smile spread across her features – Beca wasn't sure it was the most favorable type of smile. "Okay, then." Paige gestured vaguely. "I've gotta go. Movie stuff scheduled for the rest of the day." Paige nodded to Chloe. "Good to see you, Chloe."

The redhead's eyebrows drew together just slightly. Still, she kept her manners, nodding to the actress. "You too."

As Paige flounced away, Chloe shot a look to Beca. The way the petite DJ shuffled uncomfortably made Chloe's brows draw together.

"Interesting how she's always around." The comment was innocent, but Beca could hear the underlying and subtle disquiet in Chloe's tone, an almost passive accusation that hadn't developed to fertility.

"Can't seem to shake her," Beca mumbled beneath her breath.

Chloe grinned, tugging the other girl to a stop. She leaned down, capturing Beca's lips in a torrid, heated kiss. Beca gasped as they parted, feeling the warm tingles radiate through every pore in her body.

"Looks like we're going to have to make things clear, aren't we?"

Beca's eyebrows shot upward. "If that's the way we're gonna do it, clarify away."

xxx-xxx-xxx

"Wait, so run this by me again." Jesse's voice was muffled as he wove his way through the shelves of the radio station, working his way through the stack of CDs cradled in his arm. "Basically, you have the star of a hit TV show practically throwing herself at you with the prospect of potentially seeing her naked…and you've _already_ seen her naked."

Beca nodded from her perch on the desk, perusing the CDs in the crate beside her. "Sounds about right."

Jesse turned that idea over in his mind. It seemed to overwhelm the boy, and he shook his head. He poked his head through a gap in the shelves, looking over to the DJ. "Dude, your life is awesome."

Beca rolled her eyes, swinging her legs from the edge. "Your perception and my perception of awesome are vastly dissimilar."

"Don't hit me, but I'm gonna throw it out there that Chloe is arguably the hottest girl in the Barden a cappella universe. On top of that, you have arguably the hottest girl in the TV universe vying for your attention." Jesse shrugged, fitting a CD into its designated space. "I wouldn't complain if I was in your position."

Beca snorted, handing him another stack of discs. "You don't know Paige Daniels like I do," she argued. "You only see her public persona. I've seen her in private."

Jesse's grin grew into a leer. "I bet you've seen everything _private_ about her."

Beca wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Down boy. Retract the tongue before you drool all over the desk."

"So, how was she?" Jesse asked. "Is she freaky? She seems like she's freaky. Is that somewhere you'd go again?"

Beca's head practically wobbled off her shoulders with the force of her head shakes. "No way, bro. Not gonna go there. _Never_ again."

Jesse's eyes shot up to his hairline. "Really?"

"She's a nuisance." Beca handed him the final bunch of CDs. "Paige Daniels is all kinds of hot – I'll give her that. But man, she's a pain to be around."

"So why sleep with her?"

Beca bit her lip. "Moment of weakness?" She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "This is gonna sound horrible, but I was drunk and it's not like you talk much during sex…"

Jesse grinned, moving on to the crate of vinyl records. "And now she won't leave you alone. Poor little DJ…"

Beca rolled her eyes. "And the worst part is that she always seems to find me when Chloe is supposed to meet me somewhere."

Jesse whistled, shaking his head. "I can imagine the interactions there."

Beca nodded sagely. "Both of them have mastered the art of the underhanded insult. It's almost an art."

Jesse frowned. "Is Chloe jealous?"

Beca's answer was a shrug. "Sure seems like it, but I don't understand why. She has nothing to worry about. Paige means nothing to me."

"And Paige?"

Beca rolled her eyes, drawing her knees up to her chest and propping her chin on top. "She's probably just ticked that her play thing's taken away from her."

Jesse's brows drew together. "What do you mean by that?"

Beca sighed, playing with the spike in her ear. "She's spent the last two years chasing after me, trying to get me back into bed just so that she can say she did it. It's nothing new; she's always been persistent."

Jesse shrugged, crossing his arms and leaning back against the desk. "Look, Bee Sting, it looks like Paige needs to be clued in to exactly what you and Chloe are. Otherwise, she's just gonna keep coming at you. And regardless of what _you_ think about it and how _you_ perceive it, it can't be easy for Chloe to see _Paige Daniels_ constantly draping herself over you."

"_I_ don't even know what we are," Beca grumbled, running an aggravated hand through her hair. "I couldn't tell you." She cocked her head. "I mean, is this normal for her?"

"What do you mean?"

"She hasn't really defined what we are," Beca explained. "I would have thought she'd be the type who likes relationships and having things like that…labeled."

"Like the type to make it all Facebook-official?" Jesse mused.

"Yeah!" Beca poked a finger in emphasis. "Exactly like that!"  
"But she hasn't done that?"

Beca shook her head. "No. She said we were just gonna see where this takes us." Beca bit her lip. "I mean…that doesn't seem like something Chloe would do. I always thought she was a relationship type of girl. Is that common for her?"

Jesse shrugged. "I honestly couldn't tell you," he admitted. "I don't think I've ever actually seen Chloe in a relationship. I mean, she's hooked up with guys and girls, but I don't think I've ever seen her with one person for a prolonged period of time. I have no idea how she acts in a relationship."

Beca huffed. "That's no help."

"Sorry." Jesse slung an arm around his best friend. "As Gray Wheeler said in _Catch and Release_, 'Life is messy. Love is messier.'"

Beca pulled a face. "Dude, didn't that movie like totally bomb?"

"It did," Jesse conceded. "But it doesn't make it any less true."

Beca could only sigh, burying her face in Jesse's shirt. He did have a point.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Exiting the radio station, Beca cut through campus on her way back to her apartment. Weaving through the Arts and Humanities block, she hesitated as she approached the English building. Chewing thoughtfully on her bottom lip, she remembered her conversation with Dr. Graham and hung a left towards the building walkway.

Beca knocked at the door, lifting her other hand in a hesitant wave as Warren glanced up. "Hi, Dad."

"Bec!" Warren looked astonished at the sight of his daughter voluntarily inhabiting his office. He nearly fell flat on his face in his hasty scramble to get out of his desk chair. Righting himself, Warren smoothed down his jacket and slid his hands in his pockets, throwing out his crooked smile not dissimilar to his daughter's. "Hi! This is a nice surprise. How was finals week?"

"Good." Beca shrugged, hands clenching the strap to her messenger bag like a lifeline. "Stressful."

"But you survived…"

A corner of Beca's mouth quirked upward. "I guess I did."

"Hey, I caught I look at your grades." Warren nodded approvingly. "You did well. The 'B' in Biology dragged you down a bit, but I know you hate anything to do with math and science. Still, nice job."

Beca's brow furrowed. "Grades don't come out for another two weeks."

Warren shrugged. "I took a peek."

Beca cocked an eyebrow. "Isn't that an abuse of power?"

Warren shrugged again. "Probably." Warren beamed down at his daughter. "I'm proud of you, Bec. You did well this semester."

"No big deal," Beca mumbled, eyes dropping down to her boots, her face flushing from the praise. "I actually studied and stuff."

Warren chuckled fondly. "That's quite the shock to hear. You were always so…_derisive_ about studying and school in general."

Beca shrugged. "I had someone to study with. She had a pretty strict schedule and tended to tow me along. Her study habits rubbed off on me, I guess."

Both eyebrows made a descent to Warren's hairline. "Really?"

Beca nodded. "Yeah."

Warren cocked his head, recalling a conversation he had with Beca and Art right before Thanksgiving. "Chloe Beale, right? She's who you've been studying with?"

Beca nodded again.

Warren inclined his head in approval. "She's certainly quite the influence. Maybe I should meet her and thank her for this transformation."

"You want to meet her?"

Warren shrugged. "Why not? It's obvious she's important to you."

Beca's brows drew together. Her knee-jerk reaction would have normally been a cutting remark about Warren's absence in her childhood, but strangely, she wrestled it down. Perhaps it was the holiday season getting to her, but Beca only answered with a noncommittal shrug. "Maybe."

Warren knew by now to take the little victories when he could. He ran a hand through his hair, tilting his head as he surveyed his daughter. "So, what brings you by?"

Beca shrugged. "Dropped off my philosophy term paper then hung around with Jesse at the radio station for a bit. I guess I thought I'd stop by before break and everything."

Warren smiled warmly. "Well I'm glad you did. I didn't get to see you a lot during the semester." He twisted his watch around his wrist. "You know, Dr. Graham tells me you did very well in her class. Nearly a perfect grade."

Beca nodded slowly. "I really liked it, surprisingly. I've signed up for another one of her classes and I'm thinking of maybe doing a bit more philosophy."

Warren's head tilted. "As a major?"

Beca's head bobbed again in response.

Warren beamed. "That's great!"

"Really?" Beca's skepticism was palpable as she studied her father. His face showed genuine enthusiasm, but she couldn't help but feel a little wary about the real reason towards that enthusiasm.

"Philosophy is a great area of study," Warren responded. "Dr. Graham is a great person to learn from."

Beca worried her lip. "It's not too…I don't know…_soft_ for you?"

Warren sighed, conceding her point. He could understand where her skepticism was coming from. "Look, Bec…" He gathered his thoughts, perching himself at the edge of his desk. "I just want you to get the education. And if you find something you really like learning, who am I to stop you?"

"How come you didn't feel that way about my music?" Beca asked.

"Because music was a hobby for you, not a career," Warren answered. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "How was I supposed to know that fascination I could never understand would turn into this?"

Beca shrugged. "You can't quantify drive and desire," she reasoned. "And I really wanted it."

Warren's mouth quirked up in a wry smile. "I guess you did." He sighed, looking down at his laced hands. "Look, Bec, I just want you to understand that college isn't _just_ about the degree. Sure, that's the goal, but there's more to college than the education. It's about the experience and what you can learn from being here beyond the books and the lectures. You've got the rest of your life to be who you are to the music industry. I'm just asking for four years to be someone other than your stage name."

"What if it was the other way around?" Beca asked. "What if I _didn't_ have the cushion of my DJ career? Would you still be as accepting of my choice of major?"

Warren chuckled. "Probably."

Beca cocked her head. "Why?"

Warren's lips curved at the question. There was a mixture of fondness and melancholy in his expression. "Because even if I somehow forced Barden on you first, I have no doubt eventually you'd end up right where you are."

Beca absorbed that for a moment. It was cryptic, but she thought she had received the underlying message well. She scrutinized her father, really looked at him from head to toe. The conversation that had just transpired was unfamiliar to her. It was almost unnerving to think that she and Warren Mitchell might have actually lived through a civil exchange that didn't end up in a screaming match. Even further, Beca honestly couldn't remember a time where he conceded her talent in what she did. Beca chalked it up to the holiday season. Still, she forced out a smile as she turned to the door.

"Have a good Christmas, Dad."

Warren returned the smile, keeping his hands tied together in his lap, knowing his daughter wouldn't be too receptive to an intimate gesture like a hug. "You too, Bec. Have a safe flight to New York."

xxx-xxx-xxx

_Some folks like to get away  
Take a holiday from the neighborhood  
Hop a flight to Miami Beach  
Or to Hollywood  
But I'm taking a Greyhound  
On the Hudson River Line  
I'm in a New York state of mind_

When Beca and her mother moved from Portland to Brooklyn, Beca had met that new challenge with trepidation. It was a new start, a new life for mother and daughter. It was one without Warren Mitchell, but Beca argued it wasn't any different. If anything, there was a whole lot less yelling, a whole lot less arguing. However, one thing that definitely made the transition less painful was her mother's family and, after her mother had begun dating Art, Art's family as well.

Beca grinned as she found Art waiting for her as she eclipsed the threshold of the security gate, his younger brothers beside him. Beca rolled her eyes fondly as all three men had to bend over to greet her with a hug. It seemed everyone in her family, blood-related and extended, was gifted with height, and her uncles were certainly not excluded.

Eli ruffled her hair. "What's up, Pint-Sized?"

"I don't know, brother," Gabe drawled. "Maybe the better question is 'What's down?'" He looked to Eli. "Did she shrink?"

Beca scowled, her hands thrust on her hips as she glared at her uncles, gesturing with a pointed finger. "Just because you two are freakishly tall and were graced with height does not give you reason to tease, you know."

Eli elbowed his brother, gesturing to his niece. "Uh-oh. Looks like Bumblebee's gotten a little soft around the edges. We gotta get her some of that New York swag back or this is gonna be a long weekend for her."

Gabe nodded thoughtfully. "You might be right, brother." He cocked his head. "What should we do…?"

Beca's eyes widened as her two uncles advanced on her, arms outstretched. She squeaked as Gabe and Eli lifted her bodily, lofting her up above their heads as they marched around the baggage claim hooting and hollering.

Art only watched in amusement, his arms crossed over his chest.

And as Beca found herself towed through the baggage claim like she was some sacrificial offering to the airport gods, all she could think about was the notion that she was finally home.

xxx-xxx-xxx

As Christmas morning dawned, Art's house flooded with members from the Landry family and Molly's side of the family, the Bryants. Beca wove her way through the house, dodging the flailing limbs and pattering feet of the various Landry/Bryant family members inhabiting Art's home in the Gravesend neighborhood for the holidays. She smiled as she looked around at her childhood residence along Ocean Parkway, just outside of Brighton Beach, a sprawling home Art had built with love and ambition. The sight of her rough and rowdy family filled her with a warm comfort she hadn't felt in a long time. Beca eased down into an armchair, just watching the chaos around her. She craned her head upward at the hand on her shoulder and looked up into the steel blue eyes of her grandfather, Art's father Jed.

"Hi, Grumps."

"Bug." Jedidiah Landry was a gruff, no-nonsense man, weathered from everything he had gone through in his long, fruitful life. Like any good grandfather, Jed would never play favorites among his grandchildren, but the old man had quite the soft spot for the prickly, sarcastic, rough-and-tumble girl adopted into his family when his eldest son married Molly Mitchell.

He eased himself into the chair beside Beca, handing his granddaughter a glass of whisky. She grinned, lifting the glass in a toast.

"Thanks, Grumps."

Jed huffed, taking a pull from his own drink. "You're the only one who can keep up, kid. You doin' okay up in Atlanta?"

Beca quirked a close-mouthed smile. "I'm surviving."

Jed nodded, taking another drink. "S'ppose that's good enough."

"How have you been, Grumps?"

Jed snorted. "Hell with me," he grunted. "I spend most of my day sittin' on my ass." Jed turned sharp eyes to his granddaughter. "I want to know what's going on with you. Any ladies you sweet on?"

Beca chuckled, swirling her drink in her glass. "There's one. A redhead."

"Redhead, huh…?" Jed nodded slowly. "You know your gram was a redhead once upon a time." He flashed a smirk. "You've got good taste, kiddo."

Beca grinned. "You sure we aren't blood related, Grumps?"

Jed barked out a laugh. "Sure does seem like it, don't it?" He waved a hand. "Blood doesn't matter, you know that. You're my granddaughter. No one is gonna tell me otherwise."

"Love ya too, Grumps."

Jed nodded. "So tell me about this girl."

"She's…" Beca paused, her mouth twisting thoughtfully as she labored to truly describe the force of nature that was Chloe Beale. "She's different." Beca took a drink, gazing down at the glass. "You ever meet someone that's like pure sunshine? Like a person who makes a lot of things right just because she smiles? That's pretty much Chloe." Beca shrugged. "She's...amazing."

"Have you told her this?"

Beca shook her head slowly.

"Well, whatcha waiting for, girl?"

"I don't know, Grumps. Timing doesn't seem right."

Jed huffed. "Bug, if I waited for the 'timing to be right' with your gram, I'd be one very lonely old man living an unfulfilled life." He looked her in the eye. "Things don't happen to people who sit on the sidelines with their thumbs up their asses. Things happen to the people who go out there and make things happen." Jed sat back, cocking a silver eyebrow.

"Like your music thing. You didn't sit back and wait for Whats-His-Name to figure out you were good, right?"

Beca shook her head. "Hell no."

"That's right." Jed nodded sagely. "You went out there and _showed_ them why you're good." Jed wiggled in his chair, leaning forward and thrusting an adamant finger in her direction. "Kid, when it comes to love, it's the same thing. You find the good one, you don't let her go because chances are there are gonna be other fellas or ladies who see how great she is, and you can bet _they're_ not gonna take their chances and let someone else snap her up."

Beca smirked wryly. "Something tells me you've had this conversation more than once."

Jed shrugged. "Well, I did raise three boys who can be damn stupid if they want to." He leaned towards his granddaughter, voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. "Kid, if someone tells you that all wisdom comes with age, they're really just blowing smoke because you can be old as hell and still be dumb as a horse's ass." Jed winked. "But in this case…"

Beca frowned as she cocked her head thoughtfully. "Why is a horse's ass dumb?"

Jed pulled a face, responding with the articulate, "Huh?"

"That phrase," Beca clarified. "Why is it a horse's ass that has to be dumb? Why not like a pig's or a chicken's?"

Jed looked absolutely bewildered as he surveyed his granddaughter. "For Pete's sake! What the hell kinda question is that?"

"You ever wonder who Pete is?" Beca continued. "And why everything is for his sake?"

Jed threw up his hands. "Oh, hell. Art told me you were thinking about being a philosophy major, but don't be gettin' all philosophical on me, kid! Pulling your fancy-shmancy philosophizing on a simple old man, ha! No one asks why the sky is blue or why a man's penis goes into a woman's vagina…_it just is_!"

Beca giggled as Jed continued on his mini-rant, hefting himself up and storming away, muttering beneath his breath about "Kids these days…" She tossed the rest of her drink back, heading back towards the living room.

Typically, her thoughts drifted to Chloe, and Beca bundled up, heading out to the front yard. Plopping herself down on the porch steps, she fished out her phone, tapping Chloe's name in her favorite contacts. The phone rang for a moment before the familiar, bubbly voice answered.

"Hey!"

"Hey." Beca smiled at the bubbly voice on the other line. "How are you? How's everyone?"

"I'm good. Everything's the usual," Chloe remarked. She raised her voice, shouting out to the rest of the Beales. "Everyone, say 'Hi' to Beca!"

Beca grinned as she heard to chorus of salutations filtering in from the other line. "Thanks for that."

Chloe laughed. "Family's crazy, you know that."

"Oh, I certainly know that." Beca cast a rueful glance back towards the Landry homestead where her family could easily be heard despite the closed door. "It won't be long before they realize I've made my escape."

"How's Brooklyn?"

"Freakin' freezing," Beca huffed out, seeing her breath cascade from her lips. "It's gotta be maybe thirty, if not below."

"Aw…is big, tough, badass Beca Mitchell to a little bit of winter weather?"

"Hey!" Beca grumbled, continuing to pace to keep warm. "I resent that…I may have been spoiled by LA weather, but I did live here for five years."

"You're right, I'm sorry," Chloe paused for dramatic effect. "You're far from big."

"And now the good will and glad tidings I called with is all gone," Beca deadpanned. "And look who's talking! I saw the weather report in Atlanta. It's like fifty degrees there! You have no room to talk when you're probably only in a jacket while I'm bundled up in four layers."

"I'm sorry." Chloe's clear giggle sounded. "Why are you outside?"

"Because it's the only ounce of privacy I'll be able to have for the next day or so," Beca responded.

"I know what you mean," Chloe responded ruefully. "I'm out back because Collin was making kissy faces at me, and I've been resisting the urge to punch him in the face this entire break."

Beca laughed at the visual. "Why do you say that?"

Chloe huffed audibly. "He's being a jackass because his girlfriend broke up with him before break started."

"Shouldn't you be feeling bad for him then?" Beca ventured.

"I would if he wasn't teasing me every two seconds about you," Chloe responded. "It may be mild irritation, but even mild makes me want to strangle him."

"It's not so bad," Beca countered. "He's probably jealous. Dude, I'm a total catch. Did you tell him about the Madonna thing?"

Chloe snorted. "C'mon, Beca, Madonna isn't relevant to him."

Beca thought for a moment. "Alright, does he have some sort of celebrity crush?"

Chloe paused, pondering her answer. "Mila Kunis."

"Oh, good choice. I approve." Beca chuckled. "If it makes you feel better, you can tell him we're spending New Year's with her. I'm more than certain she's on the guest list to the party. Last time I talked to her she was gonna be there, so…"

Chloe laughed. "Oh, you're good."

Beca shrugged, realizing belatedly how futile the gesture was since Chloe couldn't see her. "Anything to help you out."

Chloe giggled. "So, what's up?"

"Just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas, but you've sucked all my holiday spirit."

"Aw, I'm sorry!" Chloe's voice softened. "Merry Christmas to you too, Beca."

There was a long pause before Beca spoke again. "I miss you," Beca murmured. "Is that weird?"

"No," Chloe countered. "Not at all. Because I miss you too."

xxx-xxx-xxx

It seemed Christmas flew by way too quick, and Beca soon found herself on a plane, heading back to the west coast.

The long plane ride gave her a lot of time to think, and Beca thought back to mere months before when she had been so skeptical about embarking on this journey of her collegiate experience. It was a different time with a different attitude, and she was amused to find that despite all her protestations and her trepidation, no, Barden really wasn't as bad as she thought it was going to be.

"What up, B. Mitch?"

Beca grinned as she passed the security gate and spotted the familiar head of dark auburn hair, the platinum blonde streaks weaving through the strands. Jules always had such an interesting look. She was gorgeous, but she favored a rougher, edgier style that could categorize her as some glamorous, pop punk princess.

Beca slapped palms with her best friend, accepting the big bear hug that accompanied the gesture. "Jules. Thanks for picking me up."

One slim shoulder lifted upward as Jules slung an arm around Beca's neck, the tattoo decorating the pale skin from Jules's wrist to halfway up her forearm.

"No big deal," she drawled. "I'm just pumped you weren't swept away to obscurity while in the Dirty South." Jules scrunched a hand through her hair. "I'm glad you're doing the whole college thing, but even I can see work is a lot more awesome when you're around."

Beca grinned, shoving at Jules's shoulder. "Aw, Jules! You missed me."

Jules snorted. "Whatever, Smurf."

Beca shook her head. "And Atlanta's not so bad, you know."

Jules cocked a dark eyebrow. "So I've heard. You've gotta give me the details on the hot redhead."

Beca chuckled. "She's spending New Year's here. You'll find out for yourself."

"Man, that's such a let down," Jules grumbled as she led them to the car. "This feels like the time you hid that one collaboration from me!"

"The eccentric recluse that wouldn't work with anyone _but_ me?" Beca teased.

"Yes!" Jules whined. "Nothing. White noise! That was some straight up clandestine shit you pulled on me. No leaks, no tapes, no nothing! I couldn't even find any evidence on your computer."

"No way, dude," Beca argued. "That time was way worse!"

Jules smirked, bumping her hip against her partner-in-crime's. "Good to have you back, Mitchell. Life's boring without you around."

xxx-xxx-xxx

"Geeze, I forgot how crazy LA traffic can be," Beca grumbled as she plopped down on the familiar cushion of the couch in her loft. She cast a glance around the room, mostly unchanged from when she had left. It was supposed to feel familiar, but the months away had dulled that sentiment slightly.

"Things move a bit slower in the south, I guess," Jules mused. She cast a sly glance to the other woman. "So…" Jules flopped down beside her best friend, handing Beca an opened bottle of beer. "How have things been in the ATL?"

Beca took a thoughtful sip. "I'm…surprisingly doing alright," she admitted. "Like, school's not as bad as I thought it would be. I'm actually taking a couple of courses that seem pretty cool."

"What type?"

Beca smirked. "Philosophy of all things."

Jules chuckled. "For a second there, I thought you were gonna say something like 'Chemistry' or 'Anatomy'."

Beca grinned. "Women's Studies?"

"Yeah," Jules rolled her eyes. "Something idiotic like that."

Beca shook her head. "No, and I'm surprised I'm actually giving you a straight answer. My Intro class was actually really interesting, and the rest of the required courses seem really cool too looking ahead."

Jules paused, turning to face Beca fully. "Dude, are you thinking of _actually_ finishing all four years?"

Beca drew in a deep breath. She took a lengthy pull of her beer. "Maybe," she hedged. Beca ducked her head, shoulders rising to her ears in a shrug.

"I dunno…I guess maybe this college thing isn't so bad. Producing and stuff hasn't been affected in any way."

"True," Jules conceded. "It's been pretty easy to get business done. Plus, you've been able to expand out to Atlanta with everyone out there."

Beca nodded her agreement. "Absolutely. I've finally been able to meet with artists that we've been chasing down for years."

"Usher, Ludacris, Cee Lo, B.o.B., and I can't wait until that track with Janelle Monáe drops." Jules smirked smugly as she ticked off the names. "Pretty awesome company there, Bec."

Beca nodded slowly. "Imagine how much further we could expand if I stayed out here for a prolonged period of time. Atlanta's not shy on talent."

An elegant eyebrow drifted skyward as Jules leveled a sharp look Beca's way. "Like three more years?" A second eyebrow joined the first. "Don't tell me it's because of the girl…"

Beca hesitated, choosing instead to take a drink of her beer. She honestly couldn't deny that notion.

xxx-xxx-xxx

For a very long time, Beca pondered that point as she patiently waited just beyond the security gate for Chloe's flight to arrive. As the familiar head of red hair appeared, bounding her way, Beca couldn't stop the warmth from spreading through her body and the grin from blooming on her face. The redhead looked almost unfairly beautiful even in the wake of a cross-country flight, and as Chloe flung her arms around the DJ, Beca honestly couldn't claim with any sort of fortitude or resilience that everything in her current existence wasn't at least influenced by, if not entirely for, one Chloe Beale.

Aw, man.

She was _so_ screwed.

_And cut! Whooo! Another one down. Hope you liked this one. The songs used in this chapter were "Different People" by No Doubt and "New York State of Mind" by Billy Joel. Next chapter is New Year's, and Chloe gets a bit of a glimpse into Beca's celebrity life. Let's just say what she finds isn't quite what she expected._

_Thanks as usual to everyone who's read, favorited, followed, reviewed, liked, all the fun stuff for this story. You all are rockstar awesome! Of course, feel free to leave a comment here on on Tumblr. Thanks of course to the Jules to my Beca, the wonderful CJ, who keeps me on track so that I can give you guys the best product possible.  
_

_Hope this was fun for you guys. I hope to see some questions at the Tumblr Q&A this weekend. Until next time!_

_*ISP_


	8. Chapter 8

_Alright, Stoners! Here we are. Man, I can't believe how quickly eight chapters have manifested itself. It's sure been a fun ride, that's for sure. Don't worry, there is plenty more fun to come…starting with this chapter. I should warn everyone that we are rapidly heading to M territory. This chapter is fairly mild, but the next one should be where we get nice and steamy._

_In this chapter, we get a sense of exactly who Beca is in LA, and Chloe is a little intimidated at the prospect._

_Thanks to everyone who has shown this fic so much love through the favorites, reviews, the likes, and everything else. Words cannot express how much it means to me and CJ. And without further ado…Enjoy!_

* * *

CHAPTER 8

_It's the edge of the world  
And all of western civilization  
The sun may rise in the East  
At least it settles in the final location  
It's understood that Hollywood  
Sells Californication_

For as long as Beca could remember music flowing through her ears, Los Angeles had always symbolized her dreams. Even before she had become cognizant of the beauty of BPMs, or the fantastical uses of faders, or even the magic a mashup could produce, her heart and mind had been set on the sunny coasts of Southern California after a trip to Disneyland that took the Mitchells up and down Los Angeles county.

Beca had never considered the possibility of calling anywhere else home. But the more she immersed herself in Barden, the more she could see what the big deal was about college. As much as she loathed to admit it…maybe her father was right.

Damn it.

xxx-xxx-xxx

It was something to be said about a woman who didn't mind twirling in the middle of a crowded airport, giggling in delight. Beca could only watch as Chloe did just that before jumping in her arms. "I'm so glad I'm here!"

Beca chuckled, squeezing tightly before setting Chloe back on her feet. "I'm so glad you're here."

"So…" Chloe twirled in another circle. "What do we have planned for my," she mentally calculated, "ten days here?"

Beca grinned at the redhead's enthusiasm. "A look into my life here in LA," she answered. "I have some work to do, but it will pretty much take you to every awesome thing there is to see in the city. Starting with…" Beca stopped, turning expectantly to the redhead. "My car."

Chloe's eyes shot skyward as she took in the ivory, two-seat, convertible Lotus roadster. It looked ridiculously expensive. "_This_ is your car?"

Beca beamed. "Yup! This is my baby."

Chloe looked hesitant. "Are you _sure_ you can drive this?"

Beca rolled her eyes, crossing her arms in protest. "Reports of my ineptitude for driving are vastly exaggerated." Her mouth twisted wryly. "Would I have bought this expensive of a car if I was really that bad of a driver?"

Chloe cocked an eyebrow. "I think the better question is if you would have hired someone else to drive you if you were that _good_ of a driver," she commented drolly.

Beca huffed out a grunt. "Fine." Her eyes widened, and she gazed up imploringly to the redhead. "Would I even think to put you in a situation that presents any sort of danger to you?"

Chloe softened, her mouth curving in a gentle smile. "That's sweet."

Beca wrinkled her nose. "Seriously? We're gonna work towards striking that word and any synonyms from your vocabulary. _Especially_ if it pertains to me…"

Chloe giggled, throwing her arms around Beca's neck and pressing a kiss to her cheek. She surveyed the car and brightened considerably. It _was_ a hot car. "Can we ride with the top down?"

Beca chuckled, opening the door for her passenger. "Sure, Chlo. Whatever you want."

xxx-xxx-xxx

"Here we are," Beca ushered Chloe into her penthouse loft, sweeping an arm over the area. "Home, sweet home."

Chloe's eyes widened at the multi-story loft that was probably the size of her entire childhood home. She took in the sandblasted brick walls, tastefully decorated with various music memorabilia and all of Beca's awards and accolades from the various music pundits.

The ground floor was home to a huge flat screen television, the breakfast bar and adjacent kitchen, a sitting area nestled in the corner in perfect view of the sprawling city below, courtesy of the floor to ceiling glass windows. She could see multiple staircases leading to various parts of the living area, and even out to a large terrace.

"Oh, wow."

Beca grinned, taking Chloe's things and heading up the first set of stairs. "Pretty awesome, huh?"

Chloe kept her head on a constant swivel, trying to take in the elegance yet modernity of Beca's living space. Everything seemed so…grandiose, it was hard to reconcile what she believed to be relative simplicity in Beca's normal collegiate existence with the luxurious surroundings she was currently ensconced.

"It's almost overwhelming."

Beca nodded her agreement. "A bit," she admitted. She shrugged. "Between working through high school and my breakout, I went pretty wild. I guess I saw it as a way to reward myself. I can afford it."

Chloe shook her head. "I don't even know how much you make, and I'm questioning that."

Beca grinned. "Let's just say that even with all of this, I'm very comfortable."

Chloe absorbed that for a long moment.

"So…" Beca turned to the redhead. "You have two options; I don't want to be presumptuous." She swept a hand around her room. "You can stay here with me, or the guest room is yours. Whatever is most comfortable for you."

Chloe shot her a sly look, plopping down on Beca's bed. "Well…I did promise I'd intrude on your personal space. And you did mention it wouldn't be any different than how we are normally…"

Beca chuckled. "Alright, point taken."

xxx-xxx-xxx

Bright sunlight roused Chloe the next morning as it filtered through the drapes in Beca's bedroom. She groggily lifted her head from the mattress, frowning in confusion as she noticed her isolation in the bed. The night before, she had fallen asleep curled around Beca. Currently, however, she found herself wrapped around one of the many pillows strewn across the cushiony surface. She rolled out of bed and trumped down the stairs to find Beca already awake and puttering around the kitchen. The DJ glanced up and grinned at the sight of her.

Beca gestured to the breakfast bar where a plate of food was set out. "Morning, sunshine."

Chloe groaned, wiping her eyes and running a hand through her hair. She plopped down on a stool, pulling the plate beneath her nose. She wrinkled her nose, taking in the fact that Beca was fully dressed in jeans and a stylish, high-collar jacket over her usual tank top and was currently shoving her feet into her trademark boots.

"You're up early," Chloe mumbled, groping for the mug of coffee just out of reach. "You're never up early."

"I'm off to the studio," Beca responded, her eyes directed down towards her arms as she arranged the sleeves of her jacket to just below her elbows. Beca puttered around the living area, stuffing things in a leather satchel. She filled large travel mug with more coffee, turning back to look at Chloe. "I have to lay tracks down for the latest Internet sensation believed to be 'The Next Big Thing'." She grinned, waving her phone displaying the time. "And if you can get ready within the next twenty minutes, you can come with…"

That woke Chloe up better than any form of caffeine could, and she bolted from her stool, scurrying back up the stairs. "Just try and leave me behind, Mitchell," she called back over her shoulder.

Beca's laugh followed her up the stairs.

Minutes later as Chloe bounded down the stairs, Beca shook her head. "How is it that you can look so gorgeous without even trying?"

Chloe blushed, shoving at the cheekily-grinning DJ's shoulder as she accepted the travel mug of coffee Beca handed to her. "Stop it, you charmer."

Beca shrugged. "I only speak the truth."

As she followed Beca through the loft and towards the elevator, Chloe took a sip of her coffee. "So…internet sensation, huh?"

Beca chuckled, shrugging as they entered the garage and turned towards Beca's car. She unlocked the doors. "Yeah. But Usher's got a good track record with those, so I suppose I'll take his word for it."

Chloe nearly stopped in her tracks at the casual way the name of the famous artist dropped from Beca's lips as the DJ ducked into the car. 'Usher?!' she mouthed in slight disbelief.

"Will he be there?"

Beca only grinned.

xxx-xxx-xxx

As they exited the car, Chloe looked to the DJ as Beca locked the doors with a negligent push of her thumb, glancing down to her phone and sending a quick text message. There was an air of palpable excitement in Beca's posture, simply radiating from the DJ's slight frame. It was amazing to watch, since for as long as Chloe had known Beca, there was always a manner of nonchalance about her. As though Beca kind of just shrugged life off, like everything was no big deal.

"So who are you working with?"

"Ella Lynn," Beca answered. "Usher's endorsed her quite heavily, so I figured I should at least follow through."

"Have you listened to her?"

Beca nodded. "She's got potential, but she's awfully young."

As they entered the lobby of the studio, Beca brightened, greeting the staff by name, shaking hands and making small talk with the people she knew. The studio manager appeared, shaking Beca's hand and personally escorting them to the booth where they would be recording.

Beca ushered Chloe forward, eager to introduce her to the group as close to her as family. "Guys, this is Chloe."

As Chloe went around to the group, shaking hands with the two men Beca often worked with in the studio for both herself and other artists. Beca gestured to the handsome Asian man fiddling with the computers. "This is Kenji Shinoda, one of the team." Slinging an arm around the black man beside Kenji. "And KB Edmonds."

With one bright smile shot their way, Beca could tell that Chloe had them hooked, and the effervescent redhead quickly engaged Kenji and KB in a spirited discussion about Lady Gaga's latest record.

Beca wheeled her around to the woman on the phone on the other side of the studio. She waited until Jules hung up before introducing the two.

"And this is Jules Avery, my partner in crime."

Jules turned to Chloe. Her gray-green eyes raked up and down Chloe's figure before she stuck out a hand. "Nice to finally meet you."

Chloe grinned, grasping the offering. "You too."

Jules smirked, her eyes twinkling, and Chloe knew immediately this wasn't a person shy about giving Beca a hard time. "And, you know, sorry for interrupting that one day. Madonna's kind of a big deal."

Chloe chuckled, shrugging. "No worries. I'm not the one you left blue balled."

Jules shook her head, cuffing Beca on the arm. "Ouch, bro. Sorry." She gestured to Chloe. "Kudos for conning her into liking you, though. She's hot."

Beca rolled her eyes. "As eloquent as always."

Jules snorted. "Who needs eloquence? I've got a middle finger that says everything anyone needs to know."

Beca laughed and turned to Chloe. She gestured to a seat beside Kenji. "Grab a chair."

Chloe hesitated. "I'm not gonna be in the way?"

Beca shook her head. "We won't even notice you," she assured the redhead. Chloe obliged as the DJ, now currently in her producer persona, settled herself behind the mixing console, flanked on either side by Jules, Kenji, and KB. There was idle chatter as the guys and Jules regaled Chloe with tales of Beca, encouraging the redhead to share some of her own, much to Beca's chagrin.

"Why do I have a feeling I'm going to regret this?" Beca mumbled, checking their equipment and making sure everything was the way she wanted it, at least for now.

"Because you've done so much dumb shit," Kenji answered off-handedly, leaning back in his chair.

"And most of the time it's when a lot of people are around," KB offered, entering the booth to check the microphones.

"And putting together a group of people who have collectively witnessed all that dumb shit is never smart," Jules finished, passing Beca a Sharpie marker and a roll of tape.

"Awesome." Beca succumbed to the inevitable as she stretched out a strip of tape. "What time is she supposed to be here?" she asked. "Half after?"

Jules consulted her phone, scrolling through her calendar. "Half after," she confirmed.

Beca shot a glance to her own phone, noting the time. They had about forty-five minutes until Ella Lynn's scheduled time. "Over/under," she called out to her other companions.

"What are you setting it at?" Jules asked.

Beca thought about it for a moment. "Fifteen."

Kenji contemplated. "Well, she's young and eager, so I'm going with the under."

"Same," KB agreed, lofting a finger in the air, talking into one of the microphones.

"Ugh…" Jules threw her hands up. "I don't like the odds three of us on one side."

Kenji laughed. "But you're still going under?"

"Yes," Jules grumbled.

"Well," Beca drawled, uncapping the Sharpie. "I'm gonna make a bold prediction and go with the over."

Chloe cocked her head. "What are you betting on?"

Beca chuckled, scrawling a word on the tape and sticking it over one of the faders. "Whether or not the singer is going to be 'fashionably late' or not." Beca grinned. "We like to entertain ourselves."

"And what's the fifteen?"

"Fifteen is the base. Some of us," Beca pointed to her three companions, "think Ella Lynn will be under our fifteen minute grace period."

"And you think she'll be over?"

Beca shrugged. "I've got a feeling."

"Isn't that…unprofessional?"

"Oh, yeah," Kenji answered. "But sometimes, this business is all about appearances, and you don't want to seem _too_ eager."

"Typically, five minutes is the usual time period for a person who doesn't want to look like 'that noob'," KB supplied, closing the door to the booth.

"But, yes," Jules finished. "It's kind of unprofessional, but it is what it is."

As the clocked ticked closer and closer to the scheduled time, the group idly chatted amongst one another, and it became clear to Beca that Chloe fit in just fine with her closest friends here in LA. Their scheduled start time passed, and Beca looked triumphantly at her phone fifteen minutes later. She whooped, holding out her hand. "Pay up, bitches."

Chloe shook her head as crisp bills were slapped into Beca's palm. Kenji threw his hands in the air. "It's like she's the Artist-Whisperer," he moaned.

"She's very rarely wrong," Jules confided.

Fifteen minutes later at the top of the hour, the studio door opened. A young man with frosted tips led the way in, buttoning the jacket of his shiny pinstriped suit. He nudged a pair of square-framed, yellow-tinted glasses higher up his nose as he cast a glance around the studio. He opened his mouth to say something when he was knocked to the side.

Ella shoved past the overly coiffed man in the black suit that looked too new for a seasoned executive who led her in and came to a stop in front of Beca, a distraught look on her face.

"I'm so sorry we're late," she babbled. "I really wanted to be early, but _someone_," she shot a dirty look to the bad suit, "was trying to say being fashionably late was an acceptable thing."

Beca smiled, holding her hand out to the singer. Ella Lynn was a young girl, probably no older than seventeen. She was cute, in the fresh-faced, sweet sort of way, and her dark chocolate hair contrasted nicely with her ice blue eyes and pale skin. Definitely a marketable face.

"No worries. It's nice to meet you, Ella."

Ella took her hand, wringing it eagerly. "It's great to meet you too." She blushed. "At the risk of sounding totally nerdy, I'm such a huge fan. I was so excited when Mr. Raymond said I'd be working with you."

"Well, I'm certainly honored you trust me with your musical future."

Ella nodded seriously. "I trust you with everything."

Beca grinned. "Ah, see, now that's what I like to hear." She ushered Ella in. "You ready to get started?"

Ella nodded again, and Beca dove right into work. Beca led the young girl over to a computer to the side of the mixing console, showing Ella the first track they would be recording. She handed the artist the lyrics sheet and went over it with Ella, pointing out certain nuances she picked up on.

As they started recording the track, it was clear to everyone exactly what role Beca played in the greater scheme of things. Everyone in the room deferred to her for any and all decisions. Chloe cast a glance around the room as the executives – agents and such – gathered in the corner of the room in their expensive suits, casually perusing their phones with an air of disinterest to the technical proceedings and chatting idly with one another. They were just waiting for the result, but Jules, Kenji, and KB all worked almost subconsciously on Beca's direction. They moved almost mechanically as a unit, rotating around each other, knowing when Beca wanted something tweaked or changed.

Chloe jumped from her ruminations as the music began playing back. She watched Beca as the woman worked. She could tell from the brunette's posture that Beca had become invested in Ella, and Chloe could certainly see why. Ella's voice was a soaring, soulful counterpart to the melody Beca prepared. It was almost unnerving to hear the voice akin to the power of a Houston-Carey-Dion come out of the petite girl.

As soon as the last note faded, Beca let the tape keep rolling before shutting it off. She had a thoughtful look on her face as she played back the vocals they just recorded.

Ella bit her lip. "How was that? Is something wrong?"

"No, that was good," Beca complimented. "But it's missing something." She listened to the playback again, brow furrowed in concentration.

"Do me a favor. When you reach for that high note, instead of just going for it and holding it continuously, try staggering a bit."

Ella tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

Beca demonstrated. "Instead of…" She sang the last word, her voice going straight for the high note and holding. "Go higher with each beat..." Beca sang the word on an ascending scale.

Ella bit her lip. "I don't know," she admitted. "Are you sure that will sound better?"

Beca only smirked; it was that maddening smirk Chloe had heard Aubrey complain about more than once. Beca leaned forward, one eyebrow cocked. "How about you trust me on this one?"

Ella nodded seriously as the playback rolled again. She sang through the chorus, reaching for the note on the last word, letting her voice gradually build to the high note, letting it resonate strongly.

"Excellent!" Beca cut the tape. "Let's hear what we've got."

She replayed the recording, layering the track on top of Ella's vocals. Beca merely leaned back in her chair, arms crossed triumphantly. As Ella listened to her voice, lending the vocal drama to complement the building drama in the beat, her eyes widened at the end result. Beca was right. It did sound better. Beca merely spread her arms, shrugging nonchalantly.

"C'mon, this is what we're paying for?"

Beca rolled her eyes at the muttering man in the corner, the one with the frosted tips who had been responsible for Ella's lateness.

"One note? One note is the only change we've got, and now the song is suddenly gonna drop as a hit?" He snorted. "I could have told you that. How come I'm not billed as the producer? Doesn't take a monkey to know that…" He nudged the man beside him. "Right? I mean, am I right?"

Beca never claimed she had any patience with idiots. She swiveled in her chair, rising to her feet and placing herself in front of the man. In seconds, she sized him up. She had seen enough agents to know the big sharks from the pretenders. Despite the fact that he desperately appeared to be comparable to his peers, Beca could see the rather glaring cracks in his façade. And like any good shark, she could smell blood in the water.

"Hey, Johnny Bad Suit, can I ask you a couple of questions?" Beca didn't wait for a response, merely plowed forward. "Have you ever worked on a platinum album?"

The aptly-styled 'Johnny Bad Suit' looked thrown as though he hadn't expected Beca to confront him. Still, he bristled, tilting his chin upward in a clear dare. "No."

"Do you have any experience with anyone currently inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame?"

That notion seemed to rattle him a bit, inciting a much different reaction. He retreated slightly, his voice and posture diminishing significantly. "No."

Beca nodded thoughtfully, turning that thought over in her mind. "Now the most important question: Is there a Grammy in your possession?"

"…No."

"Ouch, dude. Oh-for-three," Beca lamented mockingly. She tsked, shaking her head in faux desolation. She turned to Ella, softening her expression. "Ella, honey, can I ask you a couple of questions?"

Wide-eyed, Ella nodded hesitantly. "Sure."

"Has it been your dream to have a platinum album?"

Ella's eyes brightened as she nodded fervently. "Yes. Absolutely."

"How about a Grammy?"

Another jerky nod. "Of course."

"Rock and Roll Hall of Fame?"

Ella's stare might have glazed over at the prospect, but she still answered, "Yes."

Beca winked. "Good girl. You should aim high." Beca swiveled back to her original target. "Well, since your experience in anything pertinent to your client's musical goals and ambitions clearly amounts to the big, fat, goose egg, why don't you do us all a favor and defer the big boy decisions to the _person_," Beca directed both thumbs to herself, "who has multiple multi-platinum albums, who has worked with three Hall of Fame inductees, and whose Grammys legitimize anything that I could possibly suggest concerning music."

Johnny Bad Suit, clearly not used to anyone challenging him in any form, gaped, his jaw unhinged rather unattractively. He glanced around the room, but no one seemed eager to rush to his defense. In fact, Beca's sound team seemed almost bored, waiting for the spectacle to be over so they could go back to work.

One of Beca's eyebrows ascended steadily upward to reside by her hairline. "Okay, Johnny. This is where you shut your noise-making face hole, turn around, scurry back to your corner, and bury your nose in your iPhone." Beca crossed her arms, mouth twisted in disdain and a hip canted in a clear challenge.

"I'd appreciate it if you commenced that in a timely and prompt manner."

"My name is Chad," he spluttered feebly.

Beca's expression didn't change, and it was clear that his name really didn't hold any sort of bearing whatsoever. The man colored brightly before nudging his tinted glasses higher up his nose. He looked like he was mustering up the courage for a comeback, but Beca merely leveled a piercing stare his way, and he deflated, complying with her scathing demand. Retreating back to a corner of the studio, he hunkered down, trying to look busy on his phone. Beca rolled her eyes, turning back to the mixing board with a scoff.

"Amateurs." She refocused her attention to Ella. "You ready to get back to work?"

Ella nodded fervently. "Tell me what to do."

Beca winked at the young singer. "Kid, if you do exactly what I tell you, I can promise you'll have a hit on your hands." Beca lowered her voice. "And I'd ditch the suit. If you want quality representation, I've got a couple of great contacts I can hook you up with."

Ella colored, her eyes plummeting to the ground. "Please? He's my older sister's boyfriend. He convinced me it was a good idea at the time."

Beca nodded. "I'll send over a lawyer too. These kinds of things could get messy."

"Thank you."

Beca shrugged. "No problem. I think you have a future. You don't want someone like that to drag you down because he doesn't have your best interests in mind."

Ella smiled, retreating back to the booth as Beca returned to her seat. "You ready, kid?"

As Ella nodded, and Beca cued the playback, Chloe surveyed the DJ, currently immersed in her producer persona.

"Alright. Let's make you a star." She caught Chloe's eye and winked.

Normally, such an outrageous display of arrogance would have completely turned Chloe off, but as she watched the smaller brunette work, she found Beca's supremely confident display disconcertingly arousing. Chloe didn't doubt for a second that Beca would do exactly as she claimed.

_Hot_.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Chloe glanced around at the amazing café right by the studio that Beca had taken her to. It seemed almost too fancy for a casual lunch, but Beca assured her it was just like Fitz's or Baguettes…it just catered to the various celebrities that made it way through the restaurant. As they were ushered to the table, Beca held Chloe's chair out before eased down into her seat, shooting a grin to Chloe. "What did you think?"

"That was amazing," Chloe gushed. "I mean, when we recorded with Prince as the Bellas, we definitely didn't get a sense of what went on in the studio."

"It can get crazy, for sure," Beca divulged. "Sometimes ideas clash and personalities don't mesh well, but Jules, Kenj, KB, and I have pretty much got it down. Between the three of us, we can pretty much diffuse any sort of situation. Our first time working together was chaos though."  
"So is that how you normally work with artists?" Chloe asked. "Are they referred to you or what?"

Beca shrugged, taking a bite of her salad. "Yeah. I mean, pretty much Vera fields calls from various people who represent artists that want to work with me, and I choose from them, pretty much."

"Is that a tough process?"

"Yes and no." Beca leaned back thoughtfully. "Some artists obviously take precedence over others – If someone like Beyonce or Jay-Z comes calling, I'm dropping everything to accommodate them – but at the very least, I'm willing to hear anyone out who wants to work with me."

"Is there anyone you won't work with?"

Beca thought about that for a moment. "Sure. I won't work with certain artists on principle, but that's just a personal thing. Other than that, I'll at least entertain the notion of working with someone."

Chloe shook her head. "I guess it's just different seeing you when you're working," she confessed. "You knew exactly what to do and what things needed to be done."

"Music is the only thing I have absolute certainty about," she commented. "If there is one thing I know for sure, it's how to make great music. Everything else," she shrugged, "I'm just floundering through like everyone else."

Beca glanced at her phone as the screen lit up, and her nose wrinkled in distaste. "Aw, crap."

Chloe clocked her head. "What is it?"

Beca leaned back in her chair and craned her neck towards the door. Her eyes centered in on the group of people wielding cameras starting to congregate at the entrance. "Paparazzi," she grumbled.

Chloe's brows drew together. "Really?"

Beca sighed, nodding her head. She showed Chloe the message from Jules.

_Paparazzi caught wind you're back in town. Heading your way right now._

"Geeze."

Beca huffed. "Yeah." She leaned over, rummaging in her bag. She slid a pair of sunglasses over to Chloe. "Put those on. The flashbulbs can be harsh for a first-timer."

Chloe obliged. "Any tips?"

Beca chuckled. "Just be prepared that if you do say something, it might get skewed into something else."

Chloe cocked her head. "Should I not say anything?"

Beca shrugged. "I normally stay polite, but I don't make conversation if that's what you're asking." She shrugged. "People hear horror stories about them, and I'm not saying they're wrong, I just haven't really experienced anything that would make me go after them with an umbrella." Beca grinned. "I don't think I'm famous enough."

"But famous enough to be followed," Chloe mused.

Beca shrugged again. "Nature of the beast, I guess."

Chloe giggled, rising to her feet. "This is kind of exciting."

Beca chuckled. "We can send the tabloid to your folks to gush over if you want."

"My dad will love this," Chloe mused.

Beca cocked an eyebrow. "Really?"

Chloe laughed. "No, probably not, but he might find it amusing."

Beca bit her lip. "He's not gonna, like…_do_ anything to me, is he?"

Chloe shook her head. "I wouldn't know. It's not like he's had to deal with something like this before."

Beca snorted. "Yeah, that's helpful…" She held out her hand. "You ready to do this?"

Chloe looked out to the veritable crowd by the café entrance and shrugged. She slipped her hand into Beca's. "I guess so."

Beca grinned encouragingly, squeezing the digits in her palm. "Just smile and keep walking."

Chloe took a deep breath, nodding bravely. She clung to Beca's hand as the DJ led them outside and through the throng of photographers. Beca pasted on a grin as she was met with an explosion of flashbulbs.

"Aw, this is nice. Did you guys miss me?"

Beca was right when she said the flashbulbs were harsh. It was like a million strobe lights pulsing all around her. Without the sunglasses to shield her eyes, she cringed to think what kind of awkward, unattractive facial expression would have been captured by one of the many paparazzos currently surrounding them, shouting questions at Beca.

_Beca! Who's the girl?"_

_New girlfriend, Beca?_

_Beca! Where have you been?_

_Beca! Why Atlanta?_

_Beca! What's the deal with you and Paige Daniels?_

Beca merely smiled and waved. "Thanks for the welcome home, guys."

One camera crew circled around to catch Beca from the front.

"So who's the girl, Beca?" the cameraman asked.

Beca laughed, clearly familiar with the man behind the camera. "C'mon, Mike, I can't do your job for you."

"She's pretty. A new actress?" Mike persisted. "Someone trying to break into the business?"

Beca grinned as they stopped in front of the car. Opening the door for Chloe, the DJ ushered the redhead in before circling around to the driver's side. "I'll let you figure that one out for yourself."

Chloe drew out a deep breath as they pulled away from the curb, the flashbulbs following them until they were out of range. She turned to Beca, noting how the DJ stuck an arm out of the window, waving goodbye to the few stragglers who chased them out into the street.

"Is this normal?"

Beca laughed. "This is LA," she remarked. "A quarter of the population is paparazzi." She shrugged. "Maybe they have some like mass alert system that notifies everyone when there's a star sighting or something."

Chloe could only look back in disbelief at the throng they had left behind.

xxx-xxx-xxx

It seemed as though this entire trip was one big revelation to Chloe. She knew Beca was well-known, but she never really understood the extent of the DJ's celebrity until she actually caught a look into Beca's life in Los Angeles. It seemed everyone in Los Angeles was engaged a never-ending fight for Beca's time. Although Beca claimed this was an unusually busy time for her, Chloe noticed the DJ navigated through her hectic schedule way too smoothly to be a stranger to such an active calendar. It wasn't as though she was neglected, though. Even while working, Beca had managed to show her the best parts of Los Angeles while she flitted from place to place, engaging Chloe in a way that didn't make it seem like the redhead was a third-wheel in all of the proceedings. And, Chloe certainly couldn't deny it wasn't thoroughly entertaining how Beca seemed to be meeting with one famous person after another.

For example, she would have never imagined sitting in a boardroom across from – of all people – Dr. Dre as his people presented her a series of his Beats headphones made for DJs that she and David Guetta had a hand in creating and would be endorsing. She certainly didn't expect to be asked her opinion.

Chloe grinned. "They're very you," she complimented.

Beca nodded her agreement. She walked over to the small setup Dre had brought with him to be able to demonstrate the quality of the headphones. She plugged the cord into the jack, slipping the cups over her ears.

Beca slipped the headphones on to test them out, moving the cups in a manner she would do while she was mixing, enjoying the flexibility of the construction. With a grin, she nodded her approval.

"These are awesome," she enthused.

As Beca commenced with the business end of the deal, Chloe went back into her mind, thinking back to her days with Beca. This was just one of many interactions she had with the various stars and celebrities of all mediums within the entertainment industry that had crossed through Beca's calendar.

As they slid into the car, Chloe turned to Beca. "Where are we heading to now?"

"The set of _On the Hill_," Beca answered. "I haven't seen Cade in awhile, and text messages and Skype sessions just doesn't cut it. He said he needed to talk to me about something. What, I'm not exactly sure…"

"Cade Lowell?" Chloe clarified.

Beca nodded. "He's awesome."

"Will Paige be there?"

Beca flushed, running a hand through her hair. "I think so…Cade said she's on a break from the film and might be back on set for a bit."

Chloe shook her head. "You're lucky I really love that show and I really want to meet Cade."

Beca grinned. "It's the little victories," she agreed.

As Beca pulled in to the lot, Chloe practically vibrated with excitement at the thought of visiting the set of one of her favorite shows. _On the Hill_ was a drama about a group of teenagers living in Washington, D.C. whose parents worked on or around Capitol Hill. Paige played one of the lead characters, Charlotte "Charlie" Chase, the younger daughter of the Commandant of the Marine Corps, a spoiled, self-centered socialite who was often trying to gain the attention and affection of her father. By contrast, Cade played Jefferson "Trip" Wakefield, III, the rebel son of the Vice-President vying for the affections of Chandler Chase, Charlie's straight-laced, overachieving elder sister, a medical school student residing nearby who often served as the voice of reason and common sense to her younger sister's schemes of social domination.

The security guard was familiar with Beca, greeting her by name as he waved her through.

Beca grinned as she saw Cade, his back towards her. Motioning for Chloe to follow, she ran up to him, leaping onto his back, wrapping her arms and legs around his neck and waist, hollering in his ear.

"Piggyback attack, mothafucka!"

Cade stumbled forward in surprise, but grasped Beca's legs to support her, twirling around in a circle. "Tilt-a-Whirl Twirl, beeeyotch!"

They spun around for a moment before Cade released Beca, letting her jump down, and the pair stumbled around to orient themselves. Refocusing, Cade grinned, throwing his arms around the smaller girl in a bear hug.

"What up, Mitchell?"

Beca retaliated with a soft punch to the arm. "Missed you, loser."

Six-foot even with a chiseled body, handsome features, and a naturally charming and charismatic personality, Cade Lowell was pretty much the epitome of the All-American heartthrob. She beamed at him, as he shot her a dimpled smile, blue-gray eyes twinkling happily.

"I guess I kinda missed you too, Pipsqueak." He gestured to Chloe. "So, don't be rude, introduce me to this lovely lady you've brought along with you."

Beca obliged, steering Cade to a stop to Chloe. "Cade, this is Chloe Beale, a friend of mine from Atlanta. Chloe, Cade."

Chloe's eyes widened as she took in the heartthrob. "Wow, so nice to meet you."

Cade shot her a swoon-worthy grin full of dimples. "Pleasure's mine. Beca's descriptions don't do you justice."

Beca's eyes widened, smacking Cade on the arm. "Lock it up, loose lips!"

Cade laughed, slinging an arm around the redhead. "Seriously, she talks about you a lot. It's nice to put a face to the name."

Chloe cocked an eyebrow. "Really?" She shot a sly look to the bright red DJ. "Do tell…"

Beca groaned, as the two chatted. "Great idea, Mitchell," she chastised herself as she brought up the rear. "Real bang up job, there."

Cade led them to the cafeteria where a catering service was set up for lunch. As they sat down to eat, Cade turned his attention to Chloe.

"So, you're also at Barden?"

Chloe nodded. "Yup. I'm a senior."

"What are you studying?"

"Pre-med," Chloe answered.

Cade shook his head. "Wow, and you settled for numbnuts over there?" He nudged Beca. "Must be slim pickings down south."

Beca bared her teeth, shoving at Cade's shoulder. "Back off, Bicep Brains! I'm not a full-on moron!"

"To be fair, she did do very well this semester," Chloe defended.

Cade laughed, ruffling Beca's hair. "C'mon, dude, I'm just playing. Beca's one of the smartest people I know. It's just been dulled by the Hollywood bimbos she surrounds herself with." He leaned back, propping his ankle on his knee. "So you two excited for my New Year's bash?"

Chloe lit up. "You're hosting the party we're going to?"

Cade nodded. "Yup! It's my new nightclub's opening night. Figured what better night than New Year's and who better to kick it off than the best DJ in LA…" He sighed. "Then I heard Skrillex was gonna be in London…" He shrugged. "Oh, well."

Beca's mouth dropped open, and she glowered at the actor. "Dude! So rude."

Cade giggled, clearly enjoying himself. "Man, you're way too easy."

"Aw, it's alright, sweetie," Chloe consoled the pouting DJ with a kiss to the cheek. "If it makes you feel better, you're the best DJ at Barden."

Beca threw her hands in the air. "I'm the only DJ at Barden that isn't a Deaf Jew!"

Before Cade could ask what the hell she met, a voice cut into their conversation.

"Well, look who it is. Hi, there, Beca."

Beca cringed as the all-too familiar timbre sounded behind her. "Paige."

"Speaking of Hollywood bimbos," Cade muttered under his breath. Chloe giggled, drawing Paige's attention her way.

"And Chloe…" Paige's simpering, sweet voice belied the look on her face as she joined them at their table. "What a pleasant surprise."

Inwardly, Chloe rolled her eyes, but still put on a smile she directed to the actress. "Hi, Paige."

"Isn't this just a nice little gathering here?" Paige lifted a finger, flicking a strand of her meticulously-styled hair from her face. "I assume you're talking about Cade's little New Year's shindig at his brand-new club."

Beca nodded slowly. "We are."

"Excellent. I heard you were spinning there." Paige leaned closer to the DJ. "I'm so excited to see you in your element. I've heard you were undeniably sexy when you spin. It's just a shame I haven't witnessed it yet."

Beca cleared her throat, shifting uncomfortably, gravitating towards the safety of Chloe. "Chloe could tell you all about it," she practically squeaked, slinging an arm around Chloe's chair. "She knows."

Chloe held back a laugh, turning an amused gaze to Beca. "She's not wrong, you know." Chloe grinned, placing a hand on Beca's knee, her thumb rubbing the rough denim of Beca's jeans. "You _are_ sexy when you spin."

Beca flushed, her fingertips running against the skin of Chloe's shoulder, left bare from her sleeveless shirt. "Good to know."

"She's got some great mixes," Chloe divulged, leveling a meaningful look towards Paige. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Cade practically bouncing in his seat at the stand-off. "There's this one where she pairs 'Titanium' by David Guetta with 'Bulletproof' by La Roux." Chloe's hand skated casually up Beca's thigh, and the redhead was aware their blonde companion was subtly following the caress. "It really _builds_."

Paige forced out a smile, eyes still centered on how Chloe was draped quite comfortably over Beca, an eyebrow cocked as Beca readily accepted the closeness when she would normally be pushing people away. They seemed to be sharing a moment…or an inside joke with the expressions on their faces. "That's nice."  
Chloe nodded. "It is…"

Beca laughed, noticing the conversation was eerily similar to her own first encounter with the redhead. She nudged Chloe. "You gonna make her sing it?"

Chloe giggled, throwing her head back at the memory. "I'm not trying to recruit her for the Bellas!"

Beca grinned. "I feel so special."

Cade frowned, gesturing between the two of them. "I sense there's a scintillating story here."

Beca shook her head. "Not really. I met Chloe at the activities fair on campus where she was trying to recruit for her a cappella group."

"Beca blew us off the first time, claiming she didn't sing," Chloe continued. "But I caught her in the showers at our wellness center singing 'Titanium'."

Beca nodded. "She busted in and made me sing with her…while we were still naked…and about a foot away from each other."  
Cade's eyes glazed over. "Yeah, that's hot."

Beca leaned over, smacking him in the chest. "Get your mind out of the gutter!"

Paige forced out a smile. "How, cute. Your own quaint twist on singing in the shower…"

Cade leaned forward, bumping fists with Chloe. "So you reeled her in with the goodies. Very nice. Definitely go for the weakness there. Beca's a slave to a good set of lady bits."

Beca threw her hands in the air. "Why does everyone keep saying that?"

"Because it's true," came the affirming chorus.

"Oh, for fuck's sake."

xxx-xxx-xxx

"I think I see what you mean," Chloe remarked, reclining back on Beca's couch.

The DJ frowned, casting a glance over her shoulder as she rummaged through the bar in the corner after dinner. "About?"

"You not being able to shake Paige," Chloe clarified. "It does seem like she follows you like the plague."

"Oh, yeah…" Beca rolled her eyes, returning to Chloe's side. She offered out one of the tumblers. "Honestly, I don't get it. She surrounds herself with the most gorgeous people on the planet, all of whom would be with her if she did nothing more than crook her finger. So why me?"

Chloe giggled. "Why do you attract the crazies?"

"There is something to be said about a woman who just busts into people's showers," Beca drawled.

"Oh, gosh, you are never gonna let me live that down!" Chloe shoved Beca's shoulder. "I was mesmerized by your voice!"

"Oh, perfect reason!"

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Whatever! You loved it. You couldn't keep your eyes off me."

"Because I wanted to be respectful and not ogle you," Beca defended.

Chloe grinned, taking a sip of her drink. "Anyway, you want to know what I think?"

"Sure," Beca sighed.

"I think it's because you're so mysterious."

Beca's nose wrinkled in protest. "What do you mean by that?"

"People don't know a lot about you," Chloe deduced. "If I had to guess, part of the thrill is chasing after someone as elusive as you and being privy to kind of the intimate knowledge no one else knows." Chloe nodded. "That's powerful."

Beca shook her head. "I don't know, Chloe…"

"Think about it," Chloe implored. "If they can't get the answer from you, the only source would be from Paige."

"That makes sense." Beca sighed. "I don't know. I guess, I don't really appreciate being treated as some sort of game just to satisfy someone's fantasy."

"Sure," Chloe sympathized. "Maybe she'll back off when the next mysterious celebrity comes around."

"Maybe…" Beca grinned, turning her head to look at Chloe. "Thanks for being here."

Chloe beamed. "Thanks for having me." She bit her lip, placing her glass on the coffee table, taking Beca's as well. "You know…" She leaned in, brushing a soft kiss over Beca's lips. "We should really take advantage of being alone without the possibility…"

"Of someone busting in on us?" Beca considered that for a moment. "That's a good point."

Chloe hummed, throwing a leg over the seated DJ. She leaned down, her hair a copper curtain around Beca's face. Beca surged up, sealing their lips together, her hands wandering over the skin available for her perusal. Nimble fingers tangled in the hem of Chloe's shirt, meandering upward until the redhead was divested of the garment.

Beca growled low in her throat, burying her face in Chloe's neck, teeth nibbling at the golden skin, her tongue tracing over the valley of Chloe's collarbones until her lips mapped the slope of Chloe's breast. She relished in the whimper resonating from deep in Chloe, drifting out through her parted lips.

She met luminous blue eyes, made dark by dilated pupils, and a potent feeling pulsed through her veins. She inched forward, catching that bow-shaped mouth in the barest whisper of a kiss. She felt more than heard Chloe's ragged exhale as Chloe's hands cradled her face, lips searching for contact.

"Yo, B. Mitch!" Jules's voice sounded from the elevator. "I'm coming in, bitch!"

Beca was yanked away from her happy place as Jules's voice shattered her hazy fog of pleasure. She sighed, pulling away from Chloe and running her hands through her hair. "For fuck's sake! It's like a worldwide conspiracy!"

Chloe could only bury her face in Beca's neck, her shoulders shaking with the force of her laughter.

"I have got to change that passcode," Beca mumbled. "Or I seriously will never get some."

Chloe giggled, dismounting the brunette, grabbing her shirt from the couch. She glanced up as the elevator doors parted to spill out Beca's co-producer. "Hey, Jules."

"Yo, Red." Jules cast a glance at the television, blaring with a marathon of a random cop show.

"Aw, you guys got started without me?"

Beca gazed forlornly at the fully-clothed redhead. "We were gonna, yeah."

Jules's brows drew together. "Something tells me we're having two different conversations…"

Before Beca could answer, her ringtone sounded, and she craned her neck and snatched up her phone. "Beca Mitchell…Hi! Hang on a sec." She turned to Jules and Chloe, pointing to her phone. "I've gotta take this." She cast a glance back to Jules, pointing a finger authoritatively, cornflower blue eyes full of suspicion. "Be nice."

"Fuck that," Jules snorted. "I'm always nice."

Beca rolled her eyes. "Prior evidence indicates otherwise."

As Beca ascended the stairs to the bedroom, Jules rotated to Chloe, an innocent smile on her face. "Hi."

Chloe swallowed hard. "Hi…"

"Look, I'm gonna be straight with you," Jules jumped straight to the point. "I like you. I think you're cool, and I think you're exactly what Beca needs."

"Thanks."

"No problem." Jules leveled a serious stare Chloe's way. "But I should warn you that if you fuck her up, I. Will. End. You."

Chloe nodded jerkily. "Point taken."

"Awesome." Jules brightened, her grave expression turning mischievous. "Now, in the spirit of camaraderie, allow me to regale you with a few things you should know about Beca Mitchell, namely her weaknesses." Jules lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Do these things, and I swear on our latest Madonna track she will never be able to say no to you."

Chloe grinned, turning to face Jules fully. "Educate me, Master…"

Beca returned a few minutes later to find Jules and Chloe on the couch, completely immersed in a marathon of _The Sing Off_, idly commenting about the performances. She eyed the pair suspiciously.

"Everything okay in here?"

"Yup!" Jules grinned. "We're good."

Chloe concurred. "Really good."

This time, it was Beca's brows that drew together. "Yeah, something definitely tells me we're having two different conversations again."

xxx-xxx-xxx

Later in the evening, Jules departed after a night of friendly, comfortable chatter and good company. Leaving with a wink and a smirk, Jules slunk out of Beca's loft with a mischievous wave over her shoulder and the instruction "Not to do anything I wouldn't do." Beca had rolled her eyes while Chloe giggled.

The pair reclined on Beca's ridiculously comfy couch, idly flipping through the channels. There weren't really watching, more reveling in each other's company.

Chloe sighed, snuggling into Beca's light embrace. "Can I ask you something?"

Beca shrugged. "Shoot."

"Is this the way it always is?"

Beca cocked her head, glancing down at the redhead. "What do you mean?"

"You're always on the go, always doing something," Chloe clarified.

"Yes and no," Beca admitted. "This is a pretty busy break, mostly because there are things I need to get done before I head back to school

"No, I get that." Chloe shrugged. "I guess I mean, like, the paparazzi, the celebrities. The way you just jump on someone who's an international sex symbol…" Chloe shook her head. "I guess I'm having a hard time reconciling the you I know and see every day at Barden to this you here in LA."

Beca sighed, pressing a kiss to Chloe's hair. "It's an unfortunate part of my life," she admitted. "I'm famous. People know who I am, and they unfortunately want to know a lot about me. It just comes with the territory."

"I guess I never really thought of you as a _celebrity_," Chloe confessed. "I mean, I knew you were famous but seeing you here…it makes it all the more _real_."

"Hey." Beca sat up, looking the redhead straight in the eye. "I'm still me." She gestured to the loft. "All this stuff, it's just window dressing. If I had my way, all I'd need is my music. Just so happens people pay me well to do what I love." She shrugged. "Isn't that what everyone wants out of their job?"

"Yeah." Chloe smiled softly. "I suppose it is. You're lucky you get to do what you love."

"Yeah," Beca agreed. "Look, I know this…celebrity stuff is a lot to take in, but it's just the fringe stuff. It's always been about the music."

Chloe nodded. "I'm sorry if I'm being weird about this stuff."

Beca shrugged. "It's okay. I know this isn't something you've dealt with before. I understand."

Chloe leaned up, pressing her lips to Beca's. It was a reassuring gesture. "I admit this is really cool, though."

"Yeah." Beca chuckled, wrapping Chloe tighter in her embrace. "It kind of is, isn't it?"

xxx-xxx-xxx

As New Year's Eve fell upon them, Chloe felt a little bit better about Beca's celebrity status the more she immersed herself in the DJ's LA lifestyle. The more she really watched Beca, the more she realized Beca really wasn't all that different than she was at Barden, she interacted with people the same way. It just so happened the people with whom Beca was interacting had probably appeared on _People_ magazine's Most Beautiful List once or twice.

Chloe descended the stairs, giving a little twirl. "What do you think?"

Beca blew out a deep breath as she took in the redhead's outfit. Chloe had poured herself into a silver mini dress, the neckline draping low to show a generous amount of cleavage. The DJ's eyes glazed over at the expanse of skin available in both the front and back for her sight and touch from the halter straps. "You look hot."

Chloe grinned, circling around the DJ. "Not so bad yourself, Mitchell."

High-waist, skinny trousers molded to Beca's waist and hips, ending in a pair of awesome red heels. Beca tugged on the lapels of her white button-up shirt, smirking.

"Gotta make spinning look good," she proclaimed.

Chloe giggled, draping her arms around Beca's neck. "Oh, I think you've definitely succeeded."

Beca merely smirked, leading her out to the towncar where a driver (that wasn't Damon) waited by the curb. She waved off the man, opening the door for Chloe and helping her in.

The ride to the club was fairly smooth, and Chloe gazed out the window as the car slowed to a halt.

"So, this is Cade's new club?"

Beca nodded. "He's been developing this for awhile. It's always been a dream of his."

Chloe took in the luxurious building, certainly comparable to her experience with the Lava Lounge. "I'm impressed."

They were ushered in, mindful of the paparazzi that gathered just outside of the red carpet. Security led them to the VIP section where Cade was already entertaining his costars and close friends.

"Beca! Chloe!" Cade wrapped both girls in a hug. "Glad you guys could make it."

Beca shrugged. "Wouldn't miss it, man."

Cade steered them to a loveseat, signaling a waiter over to take their drink orders. Beca reclined back, her arm falling naturally over Chloe's shoulders. They fell into an easy conversation with Cade's costar Jen Foster who played Chandler Chase, the love interest of Cade's character.

As Jen stood, meandering over to the bar, Chloe snuggled into Beca, pressing a soft kiss to the DJ's lips, her fingers playing with Beca's dangling over her shoulder.

"You having fun?"

Chloe nodded. "They're pretty awesome," she enthused, gesturing to Cade's castmates. Her expression grew sly. "Haven't seen Paige, though."

Beca snorted. "She's in the corner where she can have prime view of us."

Chloe smirked, keeping her eyes on Beca. "Is she watching us?"

"Duh," Beca deadpanned.

Chloe's eyes twinkled, and she ran a hand up the inside of Beca's thigh. "You want to give her a show?"

Beca chuckled as Chloe's lips sealed over the skin of her neck, sucking gently. "Why am I not surprised you're an exhibitionist?"

Chloe nibbled her way up to Beca's jawline. "Well, as you're so apt to remind me, I did bust in your shower."

"Can we, like, reenact that encounter?" Beca posed, her fingers dancing higher and higher up Chloe's thigh. "Maybe with a different ending?"

Chloe laughed, cradling Beca's face as she peppered kisses along Beca's cheek and neck. "Maybe," she hedged. "Definitely not in the wellness center showers, though." Chloe gestured with a subtle hitch of her head. "Is she still watching?"

Beca hummed in the affirmative, feeling the piercing stare from across the room. "Better keep going just to make sure."

Chloe obliged, curling further towards Beca, her mouth searching for the DJ's. Beca deepened the kiss, slipping her tongue past Chloe's plump lips to gently caress the redhead's. Chloe's moan vibrated the air between them.

"Ahem." Cade cleared his throat, looking at the pair with amusement. The two women broke apart, sporting flushed faces and breathing heavily. He cocked an eyebrow at Beca. "You ready, stud?"

The DJ chuckled breathlessly and nodded, hefting herself up and holding a hand to Chloe. "C'mon."

She nodded. "There's like a small area right behind the stage. Jules is up there already. You can come and keep me company."

Chloe beamed, taking the offered hand and following Beca. Even as they departed the VIP area, she could feel Paige's eyes trace their movements.

xxx-xxx-xxx

_ALRIGHT, LA! IT'S TIME TO END THIS YEAR RIGHT. PUT YOUR HANDS TOGETHER FOR DJ LADY B!_

Beca moved to the turntables, scratching out a rapid succession of beat before a mashup of LMFAO's "Shots" and the Black Eyed Peas' "I Gotta Feelin'" hit the sound system, and a wave of people flooded the dance floor. She waved her arms to the club, clapping the beat high above her head, a request that was echoed by the clubgoers beneath her, causing a shock of sound to resonate through the club.

_I gotta feeling that tonight's gonna be a good night  
That tonight's gonna be a good night  
That tonight's gonna be a good good night _

The familiar beat energized the dance floor, and soon there was a throng of people on all levels writhing to the rhythm. Beca joined them, getting into the mix, setting the tone with her own energized dancing as she fiddled with the faders and levels.

_Shots shots shots shots shots shots  
Shots shots shots shots shots  
Shots shots shots shots shots  
Everybody_

_I know that we'll have a ball  
If we get down  
And go out  
And just lose it all _

Beca leaned forward, calling out to the club as the familiar lyrics sounded. "C'MON, LA! LET ME HEAR YOU SING IT!"

_If you ain't getting drunk get the fuck out the club  
If you ain't takin' shots get the fuck out the club  
If you ain't come to party get the fuck out the club  
Now where my alcoholics let me see ya hands up  
What you drinkin' on?_

Beca whooped, shimmying in the confines of the platform, clapping to the beat. Chloe could only watch Beca in her element, the electricity radiating from the brunette. In a way, it was Beca's way of performing, her hands providing complementary effects to the sounds and the music throbbing around her.

As the mashup transitioned seamlessly to the next track ("Turn Me On" by David Guetta feat. Nicki Minaj), Beca turned to her companion, chuckling as she noticed Chloe chatting with Jules, unconsciously dancing to the beat. As Chloe met her gaze, Beca smirked, her smirk widening as the redhead brightened. She gestured with a hitch of her head, beckoning the redhead forward. Chloe bounced up from the couch, sidling up to Beca, sliding her arms around the DJ's waist.

"You're so sexy when you're working," Chloe whispered in the ear not covered by the headphone cup.

Beca grinned, turning Chloe around so she faced the platform. "You wanna take over?"

Chloe laughed, shaking her head. "Yeah, right."

Beca shook her head. "It's easy." She bracketed Chloe's hips with her hands, gesturing to the equipment in front of them. "When I tell you, you're gonna push this lever up," Beca pointed to said lever, "then turn that dial counterclockwise all the way down."

Chloe nodded seriously, setting her drink aside. "Lever. Dial."

"Right." Beca waited until the last song reached its conclusion. "Ready?"

_Usher, baby_

_Yeah, yeah, we did it again  
And this time I'mma make you scream_

_Usher! Yeah, man..._

"I love this song!" Chloe squealed, bobbing her head to the pulsing beat.

"You love every song," Beca deadpanned with a fond grin, her arms around Chloe's waist.

Chloe shrugged, not denying the point in the slightest as she started to dance, mouthing the words.

Beca tilted her head slightly, waiting for the cue in the song. She gestured with a nod. "Okay, now press that button."

Chloe obliged and watched as Beca manipulated the effects before Usher's silky voice sounded over the speakers.

_I see you over there, so hypnotic  
Thinking 'bout what I'd do to that body  
I'd get you like ooh, baby, baby  
Ooh, baby,baby, ah-ooh, baby, baby, ooh, baby, baby_

_Got no drink in my hand_  
_But I'm wasted_  
_Getting drunk on the thought of you naked_  
_I'd get you like ooh baby baby_  
_Ooh baby baby, ah-ooh baby baby ooh baby baby_

"Look at you," Beca enthused. "We'll call you DJ Ginger."

Chloe giggled, turning in Beca's light hold. "I think I'll leave that to you. I'm content with enjoying the song and admiring the DJ."

Throwing a wink over her shoulder, the redhead started to grind against Beca, pressing her ass against the curve of Beca's hip as the chorus sounded.

_And I've tried to fight it, to fight it  
But you're so magnetic, magnetic  
Got one life, just live it, just live it  
Now relax, and get on your back_

Beca groaned as Chloe's hips swiveled to the beat. She knew both of them were in partial view from the platform, but at the moment, she really couldn't care. Every single one of her senses was centered on the redheaded minx fitted against her side.

_If you wanna scream, yeah  
Let me know and I'll take you there  
Get you going like  
Ah-ooh baby baby ooh baby baby  
Ah-ooh baby baby ooh baby_

_If you want it done right_  
_Hope you're ready to go all night_  
_Get you going like_  
_Ah-ooh baby baby ooh baby baby_  
_Ah-ooh baby baby ooh baby_  
_If you wanna scream_

Beca bit her lip as Chloe shot a mischievous look over her shoulder. The redhead grasped the hand resting on the curve of her hip. Her tongue caught coyly between her teeth, Chloe slid their joined hands down her thigh, slipping under the hem of her dress and up until Beca's fingers brushed against the veritable scrap of fabric that constituted Chloe's very tiny, very provocative g-string.

Beca's head snapped down to Chloe's. "Geeze, Chlo."

"I should mention," Chloe craned her neck back, ghosting a kiss over Beca's lips as she rolled her hips against Beca's touch. "This is another one of my lady jams."

Beca's reply was succinct. "Fuck…"

"Mmmm-hmmm," Chloe hummed her agreement.

Beca watched, completely mesmerized, as the redheaded vixen worked herself, subtly providing the friction she so desperately craved. At the moment, Beca played no other role to Chloe's obvious pleasure other than literally and figuratively lending a hand, but to be completely honest, she could find no fault in that notion.

Even as the roaring in her ears grasped much of her sense of hearing, Beca could notice the current track winding down, and although Beca had already prepared the next record, she knew that Chloe had a currently inconvenient habit of monopolizing her attention.

"Chloe…" Beca groaned as Chloe's free hand skimmed over her chest, subtly groping her breast. "Shit, we've gotta stop." It was a feeble protest, but still necessary…if not horribly inopportune. "I'm still…" she groaned again, the sensations overwhelming. "Spinning," she managed to sputter out.

Chloe pouted, stilling her movements. She turned to face Beca and sighed. "You're right," she conceded. "I must be a distraction."

"The best kind," Beca assured her with a wink.

"That's what a girl likes to hear." Chloe grasped the hand that had assisted in their brief tryst and brought the fingers to her lips, her tongue poking out and skimming the digits from base to tip in a show of gratitude. "We'll continue this later."

Beca's eyes rolled to the back of her head at the silky tongue against her skin. "C'mon, Chlo," she whined. "Quit making it hard."

Chloe giggled as she leaned down, fitting their lips together in a thoroughly erotic kiss and slipping the DJ tongue. "Just returning the favor," she purred. "You've made quite a few things _hard_ on me."

The innuendo was clear, and Beca grinned, physically rotating and pushing her back to the couches. "Get outta here, you minx."

Chloe pouted again as she grabbed her drink and flounced away. "Party pooper."

Beca shook her head, returning her attention to her equipment. She shot one last rueful glance to her redheaded vixen, shaking her head once again as Chloe blew her a kiss and a wink.

"Oh, yeah, Mitchell," she mumbled to herself, getting back into the flow and energy of her set. "She will be the death of you. Damn skippy."

xxx-xxx-xxx

As Beca finished her set and handed the turntables to the house DJ, she returned back to the VIP lounge, Chloe in tow. They flopped down on the couch, Chloe curled into Beca's side. They chatted idly with Cade and company, other people coming up to Beca to compliment her on the set or ask for autographs and the like.

As the countdown started, Beca nudged Chloe.

"They say what you do on New Year's is what you'll be doing the rest of the year." Beca craned her neck down to Chloe. "You believe that?"

Chloe hummed her agreement. "I think I can handle kissing you for the rest of the year."

At the stroke of midnight, the two met in the middle as the chaos rained down around them. Beca grinned into the kiss as Chloe's hands tangled in the lapels of her shirt, tugging her forward, her own hands occupied, one cradling Chloe's cheek, the other curled around Chloe's shoulders. Chloe pulled away first with a teasing lick to Beca's upper lip.

"Yeah," the DJ breathed out. "I can handle kissing you too for the rest of the year." She cocked her head. "You think that counts for clothing, too?" Beca smirked. "Because I can certainly handle you in that dress for the rest of the year."

Chloe giggled. "You likey?"

Beca nodded, her finger teasingly hooking into the neckline. "Me likey."

Beca craned her head when Jules signaled to her. Lifting a finger in acknowledgement, she smirked down to Chloe. "That was the business wave. Jules is hunting for new people to collaborate." She stood. "You gonna be okay?"

Chloe smiled, waving her off. "I'm a big girl, sweetie."

Beca sighed, casting a weary glance over her shoulder. "If it looks like I need saving, you gonna come and get me?"

Chloe laughed. "Maybe."

"'Maybe' she says," Beca grumbled, shuffling off to Jules.

Chloe wasn't surprised when Paige Daniels dropped into the chair beside her a few seconds after Beca vacated her seat. She knew the television starlet had been stalking the entire night, waiting for a chance to pounce when Chloe wasn't accompanied with Beca. Chloe took a nonchalant sip of her champagne, waiting for the star to breach conversation.

"So…" Paige tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Nice of you to join us tonight."

Chloe nodded absently. "It was great of Beca to invite me out here for the end of break."

"Yeah." Paige's false, cheery voice immediately put Chloe on edge. "Nice how she's been so solicitous with you. You two are so clingy."

Chloe shrugged. "I'm naturally a touchy-feely person," she divulged. "And it isn't like Beca's pushing me away. Quite the opposite, actually."

"I noticed that," Paige raked her eyes over the redhead. "It makes it hard for others to…get in on the fun."

Chloe didn't react physically, merely gazed coolly at Paige over the rim of her champagne glass.

"Someone might think, I don't know," Paige pretended to think about her next words, "that maybe one half of the pair is a little _too_ clingy."

"Mmmm," Chloe hummed. "That would be a concern. But I think both parties are very comfortable in their current situation."

Paige shrugged negligently. "I'm just saying. It's never attractive when one person is _always_ with the other."

Chloe eyed Paige, apathy oozing from her casual posture. "You don't get it, do you?" she challenged mildly. "Beca _wants_ me around. You may be the one always with her, but she _leaves_ with me."

"You're fighting a losing battle, here, Gingey," Paige drawled condescendingly. "Beca doesn't do relationships."

It wasn't often that Chloe Beale went into Bitch Mode, but when she did, she did it supremely well. One eyebrow gradually ascended upward, and she leveled an impassive stare at the other woman.

"And yet, here you are," she countered. "Chasing after Beca even when she's made her preferences clear. I might be 'losing' my battle, as you say, but yours is already lost."

"Are you not listening to me? Whatever fairy tale fantasy you have going in your Podunk brain is never going to happen." Paige leaned in, her green eyes sharp with challenge. "Beca's a 'one and done' type of girl. And once she's had her 'one', you're done, Red."

"Has the thought crossed your mind that maybe she's a 'one and done' because she hasn't had an experience good enough to come back for?" Chloe let that notion linger, relishing in the fury that crossed Paige's face at the implication. She didn't let her triumph show, just shrugged off-handedly. "Just an observation."

"Look, Beca's Hollywood, you're small town. There's no way you can fit into this world."

"Or maybe I do fit in," Chloe shot back. "And I fit into her Barden world. Maybe the problem is that _you_ don't fit into Barden."

"You really think that Beca's going to stay at Barden? You really think she cares about school? She doesn't need it."

Chloe scoffed. "You obviously don't know her as well as you think you do."

"I know her well enough," Paige practically screeched. "And I know she's not using you for anything but sex."

Chloe's lips curled upward as she mimicked the television star, leaning in. "And what makes you think that's a bad thing to me?"

Paige honestly didn't have an answer to that, and she as Chloe reclined back, taking another nonchalant sip of her champagne. Both women glanced up as Beca returned, practically radiating apathy. Apparently, the meeting was just as horrendous as she imagined it would be. Beca looked warily between Paige and Chloe, clearly sensing the standoff. She looked to the redhead.

"Hey. You ready to bounce?"

"Absolutely." Chloe grasped the offered hand, letting Beca help her to her feet. She shot a simpering smile Paige's way. "So nice talking to you." With a negligent flutter of her fingers to the television starlet, she let Beca lead her towards the exit. "See you, Paige."

xxx-xxx-xxx

As they climbed into the car, Beca wasn't quite sure what got into Chloe, but she certainly wasn't complaining when the redhead completely ignored the other side of the back seat, and slid in right next to her. And she certainly had no qualms whatsoever when Chloe skillfully breached her personal space, securing her lips to Beca's pulse point, a meandering hand slipping in between the valley of Beca's lapels to cup the swell of her breast. Thankfully, the partition was up in the town car they had rented for the evening.

"Geeze, Chlo. You got your jiggle juice, didn't you?"

The redhead hummed, her mouth full of Beca's skin. Nipping her way to Beca's lips, she smirked, fingers dancing across Beca's collarbone. "It was free. And let's just say you spinning my lady jams makes you completely irresistible to me."

"Irresistible, huh?" Beca leaned down, capturing Chloe's lips in hers. She deepened the kiss, her tongue sneaking out to caress Chloe's. "Is that all it takes to make you mine?"

Chloe whimpered as Beca's wandering fingers hit one of her weak spots. "It sure helps."

"I see how it is." Beca's head ducked down, teeth scraping over the expanse of skin bared by Chloe's neckline. "You're using me for my music."

"Well it can't be your body," Chloe gasped, the dueling sensations wreaking havoc on her. "You're a tiny, little thing."

Their banter was halted as the car came to a stop outside of Beca's building. Beca tipped their driver for the night as Chloe waited impatiently at the curb. The money had barely left her fingers when Chloe grabbed her free hand, tugging her towards the door.

Beca was thankful for her privacy as the moment the elevator doors closed, Chloe shoved her back into the glass wall, her lips zeroing in to the DJ's neck, her hands going straight to Beca's breasts. Beca grunted, cradling Chloe's head to her neck, her fingers tangling in the copper strands.

They stumbled into Beca's foyer and flopped down on the couch, still attached at the mouth. Beca ducked her head down, teeth scraping against the curve where Chloe's shoulder met her neck, her left hand hooking a slender thigh around her hip. Their kiss slowed from its frenetic pace as they calmed, centering themselves amidst the swirling emotions. Chloe cupped Beca's face.

"Thanks for inviting me out here."

Beca's mouth crooked into its lopsided grin as she grasped the wrist of the hand cradling her cheek. Her thumb stroked over the tiny lady bug tattoo inked into the wrist. "Thanks for coming." She leaned down, ghosting a kiss over Chloe's lips, and hitched her head towards the staircase. "Bed?"

"Yeah."

Far from the hasty, frenzied air that had dominated them moments ago, Beca and Chloe went about their respective bedtime routines at a more sedate pace.

Their unspoken truce didn't last long.

As Chloe exited the bathroom in a tiny tanktop and a pair of cheeky panties, Beca could feel the embers of desire start to burn, and she didn't try to resist the magnetic attraction that drew her to Chloe. Chloe's eyes drifted shut as Beca came up behind her, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. She turned in the DJ's arms, and the atmosphere shifted again.

Beca backed them to the bed, fitting herself between Chloe's spread thighs. She could feel her head spin with the sensations bombarding her, beginning with each leisurely pull of Chloe's lips on hers. Their shared breath mingled together, the gap between their mouths bridged by a sneaky, searching tongue. Beca rolled forward, desperately seeking the friction needed to provide the release they both so desperately craved.

Chloe gasped for air, her hips rising to meet Beca's as the DJ set their pace. Her hand snaked beneath the hem of the thin, cotton v-neck to curve around Beca's breast. Her fingers contracted in surprise at one particularly rough grind, and Beca squeaked at the feeling. Chloe whimpered, searching out Beca's mouth once again.

They moved together, an erotic back and forth that sent each and every sensation radiating from the point of contact out to every nerve ending. Beca wasn't sure what it was, but she definitely had never experienced so _much_ just from this sensual push and pull. It built, simmering just below the surface, until it culminated in wave after wave of torrent bursting through to each and every physical receptor in her body. She could feel Chloe tense beneath her, the redhead signaling her own release in a low, throaty moan.

Beca drew in a much-needed breath of oxygen. She rolled onto her back, cradling Chloe to her. An indulgent smile on her face, Beca ran her fingers through disheveled copper strands. "You're trouble, Chloe Beale."

Chloe giggled, humming her delight, her skin tingling with the intensity of the sensations still humming through her body. "You don't seem to mind, Beca Mitchell."

"No…" Beca conceded. "I guess I don't."

Chloe ducked down, pressing her lips to Beca's before snuggling down and burrowing against the DJ's chest, one arm draped comfortably over Beca's waist.

Beca glanced down at the mane of red waves sprawled across her chest, Chloe's legs intertwined with hers. Even with the height difference, they fit together perfectly.

So.

_Freakin'_.

Screwed.

_Whew! That was a monstrous one, that's for sure. The songs used in this chapter are "Californiacation" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers, "Scream" by Usher, and the mashup of "Shots" by LMFAO and "I Gotta Feelin'" by the Black Eyed Peas is an actual mashup by DJ Effekt called "I Got Shots". It's pretty epic._

_Next chapter, things start to unravel a bit, and the girls face some drama. C'mon, guys! I told you it wouldn't be that easy! But don't worry, the girls will reach their happy ending eventually!_

_As usual, thanks to CJ for the beta work, and as always, feel free to let me know what you think! I love hearing from you guys. Until next time!_

_*ISP _


	9. Chapter 9

_Yahhhh!, OMG, I AM SO SORRY! REAL LIFE SUCKS! Lol. I honestly didn't want to keep you guys waiting that long but all of a sudden, work decided to rain a parade of stuff on my poor head. So I've been ridiculously swamped with very little free time._

_However, I have prevailed! And thanks so much to everyone who has given love and encouragement, I know you guys have been waiting for this chapter. Please note the rating change, and without further ado…_

* * *

CHAPTER 9

_This is our last night but it's late  
And I'm trying not to sleep  
Cause I know, when I wake, I will have to slip away_

_And when the daylight comes I'll have to go_  
_But tonight I'm gonna hold you so close_  
_Cause in the daylight we'll be on our own_  
_But tonight I need to hold you so close_

It was easy to like nights. Nights were when the fun happened, when the rigors of the day ceded to the thrill of dusk and the anticipation of reckless abandon. Barriers were often stripped away during nights, where the hidden little affectations could creep out, protected by the shroud of darkness. Nights were where one could let loose, could defer the consequences of ones actions until the next day.

But what inevitably proceeded nights were mornings, and Chloe Beale never liked mornings. Because with mornings came realizations. And with realizations came the inevitable heartbreak.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Beca was never a fan of mornings, but she supposed she could make a few exceptions. Especially if a certain redheaded songbird was snuggled into her side, copper strands splayed across her chest. She choked down a chuckle as Chloe's nose brushed against her neck, each breath Chloe took wafting against her skin.

"Hi."

"Hey." Beca stretched, looking down at the sleepy face peering up at her from a red curtain unkempt from sleep. She smiled softly.

"You sleep alright?"

Chloe dropped her head back down to Beca's chest with a sleepy grunt in affirmation. "You're a comfy pillow."

Beca huffed out a chuckle. "I surely hope I provide more value than just that."

"And you're a tidy and efficient kisser," Chloe assured her.

"Tidy and efficient," Beca mused wryly. "_Wow_. I sure hope that's a compliment. You are so good for my ego, Beale."

Chloe scoffed. "You don't need me to add to your ego."

Beca shrugged. "You can't deny awesome."

"Thank you so much for proving my point," Chloe deadpanned. She snuggled into Beca's side. "So, what's the plan today? Or have you run out of your so-called 'awesome'?"

Beca stretched with a gratifying yawn. "Honestly? I don't know. I don't think I really have any plans. We can hang out with Jules and Cade for a bit, go to the beach…take your pick."

"Mmmm…" Chloe nuzzled into Beca's warm skin, the soft cotton of her shirt tickling her cheek, the scent of Beca's perfume reminding her of gentle breezes on beaches in some exotic location. "How about the beach without the sand?"

Beca chuckled. "I'll take that as a hint you want to go to that seaside café we passed a couple of days ago?"

"Please? I loved the view down there."

Beca nodded, reaching for her phone by the bedside table.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Chloe sighed, leaning back in her chair as she gazed out to the tranquil waters of the gently crashing waves of the Pacific Ocean. A flute filled to the brim with perhaps the most delicious mimosa she had ever tasted rested at her elbow as they waited for their food orders.

Beca grinned, taking a sip of her own brunch cocktail, the restaurant's specialty sweet tea spiked with Bacardi Gold.

"You look content."

Chloe nodded lazily. "I don't know how you can leave this place," she admitted. "It's like paradise."

Beca laughed. "Oh, come on," she chided. "Barden's not so bad. It's not like you're in the middle of nowhere. Atlanta's a big city."

"Yeah, but there's something about California," Chloe insisted. "Atlanta's great, but there's a different vibe out here. Something more…_glamorous_. It is by Hollywood, after all."

Beca conceded the point. "I guess. What?" she cajoled, "Do you not want to go back?"

Chloe giggled. "The thought had crossed my mind."

"Beca!"

Beca and Chloe glanced up as Cade and Jules approached. The pair was a study in differences the closer they got to the table. Jules was bright and chipper, a definite spring to the cadence of her walk as she practically skipped towards them. By contrast, Cade hid his eyes behind a pair of dark sunglasses, his stride much less lively in his shuffling, deliberate steps.

"Hey!" Beca greeted them and pushed the two remaining drinks over to the pair. "Got your usuals." She smirked at Cade. "Rough night?"

"You're telling me." Cade plopped down on the chair and took a long sip of his Bloody Mary. "Last night was insane."

"Hell of a party though," Beca offered.

"Cheers to that!" Cade clinked drinks with Beca, relaxing into his seat.

Jules didn't sit, merely beamed down at her companions. She directed her first greeting to Chloe. "Congrats, Beale, you've made it into Hollywood!"

Chloe glanced up in confusion as Jules stayed standing with a wide grin on her face. "What do you mean?"

Jules cleared her throat for dramatic effect, revealing her hands from behind her back to wave a stack of periodicals in the air. She read the headlines, dropping each one on the table.

"'Mitchell Steps Out with Mystery Maiden,' 'DJ with Fiery-Haired New Flame,' Oh, and this is my favorite one 'Ginger Grabs Attention of Lady B.'" Jules grinned, sliding the tabloids and newspapers across to Chloe for the redhead's perusal. "Love the alliteration in all three of them. Welcome to the ranks. You are now officially tabloid fodder."

"Wow," Chloe mumbled in slight awe as she perused the variety of pictures. "Where did they get all these pictures of us?"

Beca shrugged. "The paparazzi are everywhere," she remarked. "It's just a part of life."

Jules nodded her agreement. "For sure. You can either completely rebel against the idea or you can just embrace it and have fun with it."

Cade added his own opinion. "Definitely. And we'll tell you right now that only one of those two options is a lot less stressful. Give them a smile, joke around with them, and give them the picture. It makes things a lot easier, and you don't have to beat them away with an umbrella."

"Yeah, Cade gets it worse than we do," Beca remarked. "But it really does come with the territory."

"But don't worry," Jules assured the redhead. "They'll forget about you pretty quick. Someone much more famous than all of us is always doing something stupid, and the paps will leech onto that and completely forget about you!"

Chloe shook her head with a grin. "Oh, yeah," she drawled. "That makes me feel so much better."

Cade shrugged negligently. "Lindsay Lohan is due for something," he remarked. "With your luck, she'll pick this week to get arrested again…" Cade cocked his head. "Or is she already arrested?"

Jules frowned thoughtfully. "I think she's got like a trial going on or something."

"Shame," Beca commented with a shake of her head in lament. "I dug her for a long time before she went off the deep end without a floatie."

"_Mean Girls_ was a staple of my formative years," Jules agreed. "Everyone who was anyone could quote that movie line for line."

"'Four for you, Glen Coco! You go, Glen Coco!'" Cade crowed, holding up a hand that Jules gleefully slapped.

"I'm embarrassed for you all," Beca deadpanned.

Cade shrugged. "All the girls in that movie were hot," he defended. "It was a perfectly acceptable instance in Guy World to watch that movie. You just had to make sure you had another female with you."

"Because you wouldn't dare threaten your delicate manly sensibilities," Chloe teased.

Cade smirked. "At the core, I am still a dude," he commented. "I do manly things like wrestle lions and box bare-fisted. We can't have that perception altered in any way."

"So if a reporter asked you point-blank if you've ever seen _Mean Girls_, would you lie?" Jules challenged with a grin.

"No. But I wouldn't say, like, I plopped down on a Saturday night and I chose that over one of the _Die Hard _movies or something."

"Pink Wednesdays aren't manly enough for you, huh?" Beca chided him.

Cade pouted. "I don't like the direction this conversation is going. Everyone is well aware that I am a progressive male who enjoys the company of independent and empowered women," he pontificated. "However, at the same time, I also enjoy my identity as a strong, robust manly man."

Beca reached over, pinching his cheek. "Sorry, buddy. You're just too easy."

"Well, yeah," Cade protested. "But that's not the area I'm normally proud of."

The table erupted in a chorus of groans.

"I'm just saying, geeze! There's no winning with you people…"

xxx-xxx-xxx

As they returned back to the loft, Beca noticed Chloe's peppy mood had lessened somewhat. She cast a wry glance over to the downtrodden redhead. "Why so droopy, Chlo?"

Chloe pouted. "It's my last night in LA."

Beca chuckled, grinning fondly. "You don't want to leave, do you?"

Chloe sighed, shaking her head. "No. Because it means going back to Barden and back to school."

Beca mock gasped. "Chloe Beale not wanting to _learn_…"

"Hey!" Chloe shoved at the DJ's shoulder. "Just because I put a high importance to my education does not mean I particularly enjoy it."

Beca grinned, poking Chloe in retaliation. "Well, lucky for you, Red, I've got a special night planned for a proper send off."

Chloe brightened. "Guess I have to be nice to you, huh?"

Beca shrugged. "I mean, you don't have to…but it _would_ help."

Later in the evening, Chloe certainly applauded her decision to only tease Beca when absolutely necessary rather than teasing the DJ compulsively as she was wont to do. They had gone shopping and Beca had bought her an elegant cocktail dress despite the redhead's protests. Chloe looked over to Beca outfitted in a smart pantsuit, the DJ radiating an almost surprising elegance.

As they were seated at the restaurant, Chloe noticed a trend to the places they had visited throughout the week. The staff knew Beca by name, greeting her fondly, and the chef even came out to personally take their order.

Chloe looked around, taking in her surroundings. It was a gorgeous restaurant, surely five-star and high end, but it paled a bit in comparison to some of the restaurants Beca had taken her to during her ten days in LA. But, in Chloe's mind, it was perfect.

"Why here?" she asked Beca.

"This is a very special restaurant," Beca revealed after the chef had departed with a fond kiss to the DJ's cheek.

Chloe's eyebrows lofted skyward. "Really?"

Beca nodded, smiling with nostalgia. "This is where I signed my first recording contract."

Chloe's eyes widened. "Wow."

Beca grinned. "Yup. I was had just turned nineteen, and I had been in LA for about four or five months. I would skulk around at whatever hole-in-the wall nightclub I could find, shoving flash drives of my mixes at whoever would take them."

Chloe laughed. "Is that how you got your start?"

"Pretty much," Beca affirmed. "As word spread about me, I got progressively bigger gigs for more money until I was spinning at small but respectable clubs. Then one night, the personal assistant of my record label bigwig comes down to the club to party with her girlfriends. She offhandedly mentions to her boss that she thought I was awesome, and he comes down to see for himself." Beca spread her arms. "The rest is history."

"Talk about serendipity," Chloe commented.

"Oh yeah," Beca agreed wryly. "I'm not gonna disillusion myself and say that my talent had _everything_ to do with it. It had a good amount, but persistence and a little bit of luck didn't hurt."

"And this is where it all started?"

Beca nodded. She gestured to a table in the corner. "We were over there. The boss man with all his peoples and me with mine and Art. He went through a thick packet of legalese, but in the end, it was a good contract." She cast a fond glance around at the restaurant.

"Now that I've 'made it' – so to speak – I come here pretty often. I love the food, love the people, and this place has always had good vibes for me, you know?"

Chloe eyed her shrewdly. "You don't share these things with people, do you?"

Beca shrugged. "Not really. But since I've met you, you've been an anomaly to me in many ways."

Chloe giggled. "That's not always a bad thing."

"Jury's still out on that," Beca chided with a wink.

After dinner, bellies full and satisfied, Beca took Chloe out towards the bridge that overlooked a beautiful pond. They walked hand-in-hand, strolling aimlessly down the path. Chloe stopped in the center, looking out towards the sun just finishing its descent into the horizon, the view framed by the expanse of luscious grass, a quaint gazebo in the distance. Beca stood beside her, forearms braced on the railing.

"Did you have a good time?"

Chloe smiled softly. Her eyes gleamed even in the dim, evening light. "I did. This week has been…" she cocked her head, contemplating a proper description. She settled with, "Enlightening."

Beca smirked. "You got a taste of the high life," she deduced.

"I got a taste of _your_ high life," Chloe corrected.

Beca surveyed the redhead. "And?"

Chloe sighed, shrugging. "It's kind of surreal. But in a good way."

Beca laughed. "Chloe, _you're_ kind of surreal in a good way."

Chloe giggled, sliding closer to Beca. She grinned as the brunette automatically fit an arm around her waist and leaned down, her lips brushing against Beca's with every whispered word.

"You are such a charmer."

Beca's smirk widened. "Is it getting me anywhere?"

Chloe's gaze grew predatory. She ghosted a kiss over Beca's lips, coyly retreating when the DJ tried to deepen the embrace.

"Why don't you take me back to your place and you can find out?"

xxx-xxx-xxx

Chloe and Beca stumbled through the door, attached at the mouth. Stumbling up the stairs, they wrestled clothing off until they were in their undergarments. Tumbling down onto the bed, Chloe landed on top. She giggled, straddling the DJ.

"See, now this is somewhere," she teased.

Beca could only stare, mesmerized at the view of the lithe redhead astride her. "God, you are too gorgeous." Beca palmed Chloe's ass. "It's almost unfair."

Chloe giggled, blushing at the compliment.

Beca smirked, flipping them so that she settled atop Chloe. Beca reached out a finger, skating the pad down the center of Chloe's body, following the flush staining Chloe's skin. "You blush everywhere."

Chloe caught the hand braced on her stomach, yanking Beca forward for another kiss. She hissed with pleasure as the DJ ground against her. Beca chuckled lowly, tongue meandering out to gently flick against the seam of her lips, urging them to part. Chloe acquiesced, humming her pleasure as Beca's tongue caressed gently against hers. The passion simmered to a slow boil, radiating outward to every nerve ending available in her body. She wanted more of anything and everything Beca had to offer. Chloe broke away with a gasp, placing distance in between them to calm her racing heart. She scrambled for control, gently pushing Beca back to arm's length.

"So, you've wined and dined me," Chloe drawled teasingly. "Now you expect to get some?"

Beca grinned, her head wavering slowly back and forth.

Chloe cocked a disbelieving eyebrow. "You don't?" she reiterated.

Beca didn't answer immediately. The DJ leaned down. That maddening, nimble tongue traced a line from her collarbone, up the slope of her shoulder, over the dip of her neck, tripping over the curve of her jaw, finally flicking against the lobe of her ear. By the end of that short journey, Chloe was breathless with want.

"Oh, Chloe," Beca drawled. "I don't need to get you completely naked to rock your world."

Chloe gasped sharply as Beca's teeth nipped teasingly against her flesh. "Is that a challenge?"

Beca merely smirked with that infuriating quirk of her lips. She leaned down, ghosting the barest of kisses across Chloe's lips, punctuating the gesture with another kitten lick. She craned her head back as Chloe reared forward, intent on returning the favor.

"Nah-ah-ah, Beale. Patience."

Chloe flopped back, with a grunt and a heady pout. "This isn't fun."

Beca's smirk widened. She didn't respond, only slid down Chloe's body, the whisper of skin on skin prompting a groan from the redhead. Beca brought herself level with the woman trapped beneath her, fitting herself in the curve of Chloe's spread legs. With deliberate slowness, she brought her lips to Chloe's ear, trapping the lobe between insistent teeth. A sharp tug prompted another groan.

"God, Beca…"

A rough chuckle was the only response Chloe received. Beca continued downward, lips skimming the curve of Chloe's jaw. She nosed Chloe's pulse point, zeroing in on the rapid staccato evident beneath the skin. A soothing lick was Chloe's only warning before Beca's lips sealed over the spot, intent on marking the golden column.

Chloe's strangled moan was evidence of her approval, accompanied with a reflexive grind upward as her center rolled against Beca's pelvis cradled between her thighs.

Beca chuckled again, matching Chloe's movements with a forward push of her own. She grasped the redhead's shoulders, gently easing her up. Chloe rose with Beca, her legs still wrapped in a vice grip around the brunette's waist. The moan rumbled from deep in her chest up through her lips, swallowed by Beca's insistent kiss. Her hands clenched tighter in Beca's hair, her tongue relentlessly seeking out Beca's, mirroring the erotic, sensual dance between them. Chloe barely had enough coherence in her mind to remember to breathe, let alone be completely cognizant of her surroundings. Therefore, Beca's stealthy hand meandering up her back went ignored in favor of the delicious tandem of Beca's lips, tongue, and teeth along her skin. Chloe couldn't help but notice, however, as Beca unhooked her bra with a deft pinch of her fingers.

Chloe's head lolled back as Beca buried her face in the newly bared cleavage, intent on mapping every inch of her chest, wrestling the DJ's own bra off. Chloe whimpered at the sensations, the moan turning into a hiss as Beca turned her attention to one breast. A sly tongue poked out, lazily circling a pale pink areola before it retracted back inward, only to be replaced by equally sly lips. Beca's teeth scraped against the nipple, alternating between the sharp sting and soothing suction. Frankly, it was driving Chloe wild. Breath coming in ragged pants, her eyes followed the top of Beca's head as it wandered over to the other breast to lavish the same consideration. Her hips moved on their own volition, desperately seeking friction to satisfy the pulsating energy hammering through her sex.

It was clear, this was as far as they were going, but Chloe couldn't bring herself to care. Whatever energy palpitating between them was more than enough, sending shivers rollicking up and down her body, sending her hairs standing on end, her pulse to skyrocket, and every single modicum of heat to plummet straight down to the point of contact between her and Beca.

"Oh…oh, God…" Disjointed words interspersed between moans and whimpers. It was all Chloe's short-circuited mind could muster. "_Beca_…"

"Do you believe me, Chloe?" Beca practically purred, rolling forward in a particularly rough grind. "You don't doubt me now, do you?"

Chloe's response was more stutter, not enough syllables as she squeaked out an affirmative. All she could do was hold on for dear life as Beca guided them to the edge. She could fill it build, swelling to capacity. A hitch in her breathing was the only warning before the sensations spilled over, punctuated by her sharp cry of release. Chloe clutched Beca's shoulders as the brunette followed, Beca's own rumble of completion muffled by the skin of her neck. They laid there for a moment, chests rising and falling in tandem as they came back to themselves.

Beca rolled off, flopping onto her back. Chloe rolled with her, fitting herself to Beca's side. She hummed her satisfaction, throwing an arm over Beca's waist.

"I _love_ being proven wrong," she declared.

Beca smirked. She squeaked when Chloe's hand drifted over to the closest nipple, pinching in reprimand. "Ouch, woman! What was that for?"

Chloe's eyes stayed closed as she turned away, snuggling back into the DJ. She groped for Beca's hand, guiding it around her body. "Don't be smug."

Beca smirked, burying her face in the back of Chloe's neck. "Yes, dear."

Chloe's breaths evened out, but Beca stayed awake. Her mind kept working, replaying the last ten days, then branching out to the last few months. Ever since the effervescent redhead had intruded in on her life, so much had changed. She had never felt so much for a singular person, especially a person like Chloe who acknowledged the personal boundaries Beca had set yet had chosen to ignore them. With a diffident shrug, Chloe had insinuated herself in Beca's life.

…and Beca honestly couldn't bring herself to care.

Gazing down at the peacefully slumbering redhead, Beca buried her nose in the copper waves, sighing with defeat.

"Lord help me, but I think I can fall in love with you, Chloe Beale."

In the dark, a pair of luminous blue eyes thought to have already drifted off into the land of blissful dreams snapped wide open.

xxx-xxx-xxx

The next morning, it was like a windchill had suddenly swept over Los Angeles. When Beca woke up, Chloe had already left the bed. Confused, the DJ rooted through her drawers, throwing on an old Jimi Hendrix baseball t-shirt and a pair of boxers before she wandered through the loft in search of her companion. She finally found Chloe in the living room, idly flipping through the television channels.

"Hey."

Chloe offered her a stiff smile. "Hey."

Beca frowned, cocking her head as she looked the redhead up and down. "Everything okay?"

Chloe nodded shortly, her luminescence a faint glimmer of its normal brightness. "Yeah. Why wouldn't it be?"

Despite the redhead's flippant words brushing off her claim, Beca had her doubts. Still, she shrugged off her suspicions.

As Chloe got ready to leave, Beca still held her reservations, and those doubts only magnified as they made their way to the airport. Walking Chloe to the security checkpoint, there was a palpable difference between them from when Chloe arrived in LA to the time she was leaving for her flight back to Barden.

Beca grinned. "I'll see you back at Barden."

Chloe nodded, moving forward for a short hug. "Sounds good."

Again, Beca frowned. Chloe's smile seemed forced, her embrace stiff. The redhead offered out another obligatory smile before turning and heading for the line.

Beca could only stare after her, wondering exactly what she did wrong.

xxx-xxx-xxx

"What up, Bee Sting!" Jesse bounded up to Beca as she met him outside of his History of Rock class their first day back and slung an arm around her shoulders, ruffling her hair. "How was your break?"

"Eventful," Beca mused, ducking out of his hold and delivering a punch to his stomach.

Jesse frowned as he directed them to the grass in front of the student union in the middle of campus. He laid a blanket down, handing her a CapriSun juice pouch. "That doesn't seem too enthusiastic. I thought Chloe was with you after Christmas."

"She was," Beca grumbled, stabbing the straw into the allocated circle – with a little too much force, Jesse noticed. "But she got weird towards the end of it. I wasn't really sure what happened."

Jesse frowned, passing her a Tupperware full of pasta salad. "Did she say anything?"

Beca shook her head, popping open a bag of barbecue flavored chips and handing them over. "Nothing. Which you know is not characteristic of her."

Jesse shot her a suspicious glance, popping a chip in his mouth. "What did you do?"

Beca threw her hands in the air. "Why would you think I did something? I'm the victim in this scenario, you know…"

Jesse sighed. "You know, if you watched movies, you'd know that the bright, shiny, happy one is never the bad guy in the relationship. It's always the prickly, brooding one with all the tattoos and piercings." Jesse nodded sagely. "It's movie law, dude. Embrace it."

"This is why I hate movies," Beca mumbled around a mouthful of pasta salad. "I feel discriminated against."

"It's like I keep telling you, Bee Sting," Jesse remarked, taking his own forkful. "You can learn a lot from movies if you just give them a shot."

"Okay, fine," Beca conceded, putting down her fork to give the Treble her full attention. "So, Swami of Film, what can I glean from movies to help me out? Enlighten me."

Jesse thought for a moment, drumming his fingers against his chin. "Well, I believe we should consult the master of the teenage psyche, the Divine One, Mr. John Hughes."

Beca smirked. "And what does Mr. John Hughes say about my dilemma?"

"It's like _Some Kind of Wonderful_," he explained, draining his pouch of Capri Sun. "The only person who will be able to tell it straight up is gonna be the best friend."

Beca wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, but don't the best friends end up together in the end in that movie?"

"That's not the point," Jesse argued. "You need to get into the inner workings of Chloe's mind. To do that, you have to pick the brain of the person that knows her best." Jesse leveled a significant look at the DJ. "And you know exactly who that is."

Much to Beca's chagrin, she did, and her thoughts were filled with a certain, stern blonde who had a proclivity for adding 'aca' to the beginning of most words that didn't really need them.

"Aw, man," she groused.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Beca mulled over Jesse's words for a couple of days. There were a few snags in that course of action. The first and most obvious one was where she could "accidentally" run into Aubrey without looking too apparent. The blonde's apartment was out of the question; there was too great a chance Chloe would be there. She knew the blonde was a Political Science major, but Beca was ignorant to what Aubrey's class schedule could possibly be. With a hefty sigh and a prayer that she wouldn't look too much like a stalker, she camped out on the lawn in front of the Criminal Justice/Political Science building.

These were desperate times, Beca lamented as she flipped a page in her textbook under the guise of actually reading the words on the page. Ruefully, she sighed inwardly. Damn, she must really like Chloe… Beca glanced up as the main doors opened, and a familiar blonde head appeared. Beca took a deep breath, calling out to the blonde exiting the building.

"Aubrey!"

Aubrey halted at the address, looking around in confusion. Her confusion only deepened as she saw the brunette approaching. "Beca."

Beca threw out her most charming grin. "Hi. You busy?"

Aubrey's mildly suspicious stare raked up and down Beca for any sign of deception. "Not particularly."

Beca resisted the urge to fidget, only arranged her face in her most innocent expression. "You wanna grab some lunch?"

Aubrey sighed. "Look, if you're trying to talk to me about changing the set list–"

"It's not about the Bellas," Beca promised. She hesitated, running a hand through her hair. "It's about Chloe."

Aubrey surveyed the smaller woman for a moment, her mouth twisted in the same contemplative frown Beca had seen during auditions. "You buying?"

Beca deflated, shooting out another grin. "Sure."

Aubrey nodded shortly in acquiescence. "Lead the way, Mitchell."

Beca obliged, cocking her head. "Any preference?"

Aubrey shrugged. "I'm feeling Thai food, to be honest."

Beca brightened. "Awesome. I can deal with that."

As they sat down, Aubrey completely dispensed the pleasantries and eyed the brunette. The suspicion was clear in her gaze. "So what did you want to talk about?"

Beca took a drink of water to steady herself. "Chloe."

"I gathered that," Aubrey drawled, crossing one leg over the other. "I meant what about Chloe?"

Beca sighed, her gaze plummeting down to her hands. "I should have ordered something stronger," she mumbled, casting a rueful glance over to the water glass. Scratching her nose, she scanned her gaze up to Aubrey's inquisitive light green spheres.

"Did I do something?" Beca finally asked. "I mean, I don't think I did, but someone doesn't normally completely ignore another person unless she's feeling something less than accommodating towards the other person." Beca fiddled with the paper napkin in her hands. "I just want to know if I did something wrong so I can apologize," Beca mumbled.

Aubrey surveyed the brunette. "What makes you think you did something wrong?"

Beca crumpled slightly. "I've gone over other possibilities in my mind, but that was the only one I came up with. _Did_ I do something wrong that made me _persona non grata_?"

Aubrey cocked her head, contemplating Beca for a long moment. Beneath her cool façade, she could see Beca was distraught in the way the brunette fidgeted, her eyes wide with entreaty. Aubrey felt herself melt a bit. She had seen this before, but none of Chloe's prior romantic interests had ever thought to come to her and ask what they had done.

Beca saw the change in the blonde's expression, saw Aubrey bite her lip in consideration. Beca cocked her head. "You know what's going on, don't you?"

Aubrey sighed, running a hand through her hair. She warred with herself for a long time, pondering just how much she should reveal to the other girl.

Beca leaned forward, ignoring the waiter trying to maneuver around her to place their orders on the table. "Aubrey, if you know what's going on, please tell me."

Aubrey bit her lip, picking up her fork. She took a bite of her food before answering. "Maybe I do," she hedged. "But it's not my place to tell you."

"Okay, fair enough," Beca conceded. "I'm not asking you to tell me specifics. I just want to know if I did something wrong."

"Maybe it's not something you did _wrong_," Aubrey emphasized.

"So…what?" Beca asked, the confusion clear on her face. "It's something I'm doing _right_?"

"Maybe too right," Aubrey confirmed vaguely.

Beca groaned, letting her head loll back. "Why does this have to be so complicated?" she whined.

Aubrey looked thoroughly amused. "Chloe's a very complicated person, Beca." She leveled a stare at the other girl. "I guess you have to decide if she's worth it or not."

Beca recoiled back. That wasn't even a question. "Of course she's worth it."

Aubrey nodded in satisfaction. "That's what I thought."

Beca sighed. "I suppose it wouldn't be this easy," she mused. "That would be no fun. No one rights the great, epic love ballads about the relationships that come easy."

Aubrey cocked an eyebrow. "If that's the way you want to think about it, sure." She nodded to the bill as Beca paid, scrawling her name across the receipt. "Thanks for lunch."

Beca nodded. "Sure." She offered out a smile. "Thanks for the insight."

A corner of Aubrey's mouth curled upward. "Believe it or not, I like you for Chloe."

Beca nodded. "Thanks."

They gathered their stuff, getting ready to leave. Beca rummaged through her bag, sticking her wallet back into a pocket and latching it up securely.

"Beca?"

Beca glanced up to find Aubrey fidgeting uncomfortably, her bottom lip worried between her teeth. The blonde's mouth opened then closed as she clearly contemplated her next sentence. Finally, Aubrey sighed.

"Just…be cautious going into this. There's a good chance someone is going to end up hurt."

With that, the blonde whirled sharply and strode away. Beca stared after her for a long moment, turning Aubrey's words over in her mind.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Aubrey returned to her apartment, letting herself in. She spotted Chloe at their kitchen table, already surrounded by a heap of lecture notes, textbooks, and her laptop.

Chloe glanced up at the sound of the door opening. "Hey, Bree."

Aubrey smiled, moving to the kitchenette, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. She sat down across from her best friend.

"Hey, Chlo." Aubrey fiddled with the label on the bottle, surveying the redhead. "I had an interesting lunch today," she hedged. "Thai food, actually."

Chloe's attention was on her lecture notes as she scribbled something in the margin. "And I wasn't invited? I'm hurt."

Aubrey took a sip of water. "I was with Beca." She watched Chloe's reaction slowly. The redhead's pen hovered over her paper, hesitating in its movements.

"Really?" It was a forced nonchalance, Aubrey could tell.

"Yeah. She caught me outside the CJPS building and wanted to talk…mostly about you."

This time, Chloe put her pen down, giving her full attention to Aubrey. Aubrey tried to read the expression on Chloe's face. She wasn't getting much. Chloe kept her features schooled carefully, although her brows drew together slightly.

"What did you talk about?"

Aubrey sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Look, Chloe, she's confused, and rightfully so. You _know_ how hard it must have been for her to come to me asking for advice."

Chloe leveled a significant stare towards her best friend. "And what exactly did you say to her?"

Aubrey didn't waver in the slightest, meeting Chloe's stare evenly. "I didn't tell her anything, if that's what you're asking. I did mention that this isn't something new, though."

Chloe sighed. "Bree…" The exasperation was clear in Chloe's tone.

Aubrey cocked an eyebrow. "Chloe, the point is that she _did_ come to me, and she's legitimately confused on what she did wrong. All I said was that it probably wasn't something she necessarily did _wrong_."

"Still, Aubrey, you shouldn't have said anything to her." Chloe crossed her arms. "You couldn't have played dumb or something?"

"Chloe, I love you, you know that." Aubrey blew out a deep breath, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. "But you have to know I don't agree with what you're doing."

"What am I doing, Aubrey?"

"You're pushing her away," Aubrey asserted. "Chloe, you're doing what you do with anyone who gets too close to you. Beca sees something is wrong, but I don't think she's going to do what all of your other knucklehead others have done."

Chloe bristled. "Take a hint?"

Aubrey rolled her eyes. Beca's default setting of 'sarcasm' seemed to have rubbed off on Chloe. "She's not going to give up on you," she clarified. "Like it or not, Chloe, that girl is head over heels for you. She's going to blindly follow you off a cliff. And when you blindside her with what you've done with every other moron, it's not going to be pretty."

Chloe sighed. "I don't know if I can," she admitted. "I never meant for everything to get this intense between us, but it seems to be completely out of my control."

"I'm not saying you have to tell Beca everything," Aubrey clarified. "But she does deserve to not be completely in the dark."

Chloe eyed her best friend warily. "Why are you pushing this, Aubrey?"

"Look, ear monstrosities aside, I like Beca. More importantly, I like Beca for you. You're the happiest I've ever seen you with her. I don't know why you're running away from that."

Chloe deflated. Her eyes plummeted down to her notes as her posture deflated. "Maybe I don't deserve happiness," Chloe mumbled.

A corner of Aubrey's mouth curled upward solemnly. "Everyone deserves happiness, Chlo. Anyone who thinks otherwise takes for granted what they have."

xxx-xxx-xxx

Beca sat in her usual spot in the library, hunched over her textbook. She tried to concentrate on studying, but all she could think about was her conversation with Aubrey. There was obviously a lot that the blonde had said but even more that had had gone unspoken. The fact that Aubrey was so reticent to even tell her what was going made everything even more complicated. Maybe Jesse was right, she decided. Maybe she had been so taken aback by all this because she had never considered the subtle nuances within Chloe's personality. Maybe she _had_ made the mistake of thinking Chloe was so one-dimensional.

Chloe Beale was a mystery, Beca asserted. With a hefty sigh, she returned her attention back to her class notes. Looking to her textbook, Beca flicked her gaze back over to the slides she had printed out from the last lecture's PowerPoint presentation and scrawled out a notation.

"Hey."

_Speak of the devil…_

Beca's head bobbed up, and she glanced around in faux bemusement as though she thought Chloe was addressing someone else. "Oh, I exist?" She cocked her head in consideration. "That would explain the weird tingles this morning when I woke up." Beca grinned sardonically, eyelashes fluttering cutely. "I felt different, like I was a real person again."

Chloe shot her a deadpan look. "Ha. Ha."

Beca smirked, shaking her head. "So to what do I owe the pleasure of further acknowledgement of my existence?"

Chloe pouted, shoving Beca's shoulder. "Would you can it? I'm trying to apologize!"

Beca laughed, holding her hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright. Let's have it."

"Look, I'm sorry for being all…weird." Chloe sat down. She wrung her hands, twiddling with the ring around her thumb. "Things just got really crazy in LA, and I guess I wasn't really ready for it, you know?"

Beca shrugged. "I can understand that. I threw a lot of stuff at you all at once. I guess it just would have been nice to let me know. I would have backed off if it made you uncomfortable." Beca ran a hand through her hair. "I'm not good at reading signals, Chloe. Women are still somewhat of a mystery to me."

Chloe giggled, shaking her head. "You didn't read them wrong," she assured the DJ. "I really like you, Beca. And I really like spending with you." She sobered, sighing heavily. "It's me. I haven't…I mean…" Beca cocked an eyebrow. Chloe, never one to be shy for words, seemed to be fumbling for the right thing to say. Finally, the redhead huffed out another frustrated sigh, shaking her head.

"Look, the thing is, whatever it is that's going on between us has gotten really intense, and I wasn't really prepared to handle it."

"Chloe…" Beca ran a hand through her hair. "Look, I get it, okay? This kind of thing is new to me too. I've never been in anything like we have, but the thing is that we have to talk about this stuff. At the core, you and I are friends, and friends talk to each other when something's up."

"I'm sorry. I should have at least talked to you."

"So what do you want, Chloe?" Beca went straight to the point. "Do you want me to back off? Do you want us to stop this?"

"No." Chloe shook her head. "I don't. I just…" She ran a hand through her hair. "I guess I need to process it all."

Beca nodded. "Okay."

Chloe's mouth opened then closed. It was clear she expected a bit more resistance. "Okay?"

Beca sighed, scrunching a hand through her hair. "Look, Chloe, I really like you. If you need space, I'm more than happy to do that, but you have to tell me. I don't have a crystal ball I can look into and anticipate what you want."

Chloe nodded, clutching the straps of her bag tighter to her side. "I know. Just…let me get through this," she pleaded.

Beca searched the redhead's features. There was something in Chloe's expression that gave her pause. Something that she wasn't sure she could identify. Still, all she could do was nod.

"Alright," Beca agreed. "I'll give you space."

The relief was palpable in Chloe's eyes. She reached over to Beca's hand, squeezing the digits gently.

"Thanks."

Beca's mouth tilted in her crooked smile. "You're lucky you're worth it, Beale."

Chloe returned the smile. With a sigh, she hitched her head. "I've got to get going. I have a class in a bit. I'll see you, though?"

Beca nodded. "Yeah. I'll see you."

With a final smile, Chloe turned and departed. Again, all Beca could do was stare after her. As Chloe walked away, although she had finally gleaned some information from the redhead, Beca felt as though absolutely nothing had been resolved.

With a hefty sigh, she turned her attention back to her textbook. It was a crazy, cruel world if the only thing that made sense to her right now was _school_.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Beca trudged into Emerson Hall for her Modern Philosophy class with Dr. Graham. Her talk with Chloe was encouraging, and she had a bit of a pep to her step, but she was still on her way to class…therefore her enthusiasm was tempered slightly. Ascending to the second floor to her designated classroom, she entered the mid-size auditorium and scanned the room for a familiar face. She spotted Trent Lozado from her Intro class near the front and slid into the seat beside him. They traded small talk before Dr. Graham called for their attention.

Beca withdrew her pen and notebook, settling in for the lecture. Just as she suspected, Dr. Graham was just as engaging as she had been in her Intro class. As Dr. Graham went through the syllabus for the course, Beca could feel the thrill of excitement run through her. The material seemed absolutely fascinating, and she couldn't wait. Okay, maybe school wasn't as bad as she thought. Dr. Graham clicked away from PowerPoint and moved to the front of the podium to address the class.

"Now, as I'm sure all of you are anxiously awaiting to hear about my famous term papers." She cast a glance around the room. "Who here has taken a class with me before?" Dr. Graham nodded as more than half of the room lofted a hand.

"Excellent. So most of you are aware of my favorite question." Her eyes, and she zeroed in on Beca in the center section of the auditorium, five rows back. "Miss Mitchell, would you care to regale your fellow philosophers on said question?"

Beca grinned. "Sure, Dr. G. If I remember correctly, the question all of us agonized over for the better part of a semester was 'Why?'"

"Correct!" Dr. Graham thrust a finger in the air. "Gold star for you!"

"How about a bonus point?" Beca bartered.

"No dice," Dr. Graham declared. "But good try. It was a coerced participation. Try again when you volunteer information." She shot a grin to Beca, who raised her hands in surrender.

"Excellent. Now, I am well aware that everyone in here has a different background when it comes to how they have ascended through the core classes of the Philosophy curriculum to this course. Some have taken Intro with me or Professor Champlain; others have taken with Dr. Reisman or Dr. Holloway. As I'm sure you are all aware if you have had the pleasure of enduring a class with any one of my fellow educators, we all have very different teaching styles. All very effective, but nonetheless very different."

There were murmurs of assent, and Dr. Graham smiled.

"Well, regardless of who you might have had prior to this class, every one of those instructors impressed upon you in some way, shape, or form that Philosophy, no matter what the area of study, revolves around the question of 'Why?'"

The murmurs grew stronger. Many Philosophy students had heard about Dr. Graham's famous 'Why?' paper. It had become something of folklore within the Philosophy curriculum.

"Now, those of you who have taken a class of mine before and already have a paper cooking on your hard drive or on a flash drive, you have two options." Dr. Graham raised a finger. "The first is that you may write a completely new paper, ten pages on a completely new 'Why?'" A second finger joined the first. "The second option is that you may add ten pages to your original paper, letting me know if there have been any updates in your 'Why?' It's your choice."

"So either way we're still writing ten pages?" Someone shouted from the back.

Dr. Graham laughed. "Yes. Either way, you're still writing ten pages." She clapped her hands, eyeing her students with Glee.

"So, my student Philosophers, get ready to tell me why."

Beca scowled. She took back everything. School _still_ sucked.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Beca sat hunched in the other bedroom, perusing the monitor. The track she had just concocted looked pretty decent. Now came the hard part: finding a voice to fit. She reared back in her chair, mentally perusing her internal contact list. Maybe Nicki would want it…maybe Frank…

"Hey. Figured I'd find you here."

Beca started in surprise at the address. That turned out to be an ill-calculated move as the jolt sent her tumbling to the ground in an impressive flailing of arms and legs.

Had it really been that long since Chloe had made it commonplace to simply barge into her apartment unannounced that Beca was startled at the intrusion? She mused over that notion as she described her current state with a succinctly mumbled, "Ow."

"Are you alright?"

Beca grunted the affirmative, rolling sideways and hefting herself to her feet. She noticed the keys dangling from Chloe's fingers. "Forgot you had those."

"You weren't answering your phone, so here seemed the most logical choice," Chloe explained.

Beca nodded. She leaned back against the desk, looking up at Chloe. "So what's up?"

Chloe flushed, her eyes plummeting to the ground. She shrugged. "Wondering what you were doing. Figured we could hang out or something."

An eyebrow ascended slowly upward. "You're the one who wanted space," Beca pointed out.

"Yeah, I know," Chloe hedged.

"And yet here you are," Beca mused.

"It kind of sucks," Chloe asserted. "Not hanging out with you makes life _boring_."

Beca snorted, arms crossed. She mustered up some indignation. "You can't have it both ways, you know."

Chloe laughed ruefully. "Yeah, I know."

Beca rolled her eyes. She wanted to resist being charmed by the effervescent redhead, but history indicated bleak disappointment was in her future. It was almost pathetic how quickly she caved. "Alright, so you're back to infringing on my personal space."

Chloe obliged, clinging to Beca's arm. "Yup!" She grinned brightly. "So what do you want to do?"

"We could…" Beca bit her lip. "We could go out…you know, on a date."

Chloe paused, rotating to Beca, one eyebrow cocked in surprise. "A date," she echoed. "That's new."

Beca shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. I mean, we've hung out and stuff, but I don't know, I guess we've never really been on a date."

Chloe cocked her head. "And you want to," she deduced.

Beca flushed, her eyes plummeting down to her boots. "Sure. It might be nice." She peeked up at Chloe through her eyelashes. "I mean, we don't even have to call it that. You can come over to mine, and I'll cook, and we'll hang out."

"Sounds awfully domestic," Chloe teased. She was surprised to notice Beca's face fall slightly.

"Look, it's a stupid idea," Beca mumbled. "Just forget it."

The words were out of her mouth before Chloe could stop them. "I'd love to."

"Yeah?"

Chloe nodded. Surprisingly, even though the words were spontaneous, it was true. "Yeah."

Beca returned the nod. "Come by at seven," she instructed.

Chloe smiled. "I will see you then."

As the redhead left, the door closing behind her, Beca honestly couldn't say if that was an ill-advised move or not. She supposed she would find out at the end of the night.

xxx-xxx-xxx

At seven on the dot, the front door opened, and Chloe poked her head in. Beca craned her neck, shooting a grin towards the redhead.

"Hey! Make yourself comfy. I'm almost done."

Chloe obliged, seating herself at the kitchen table, noting there weren't any places set on the surface. "Aren't we eating in the kitchen?"

Beca shook her head and gestured to the coffee table in the middle of the living room. It was decorated with a pair of candles and a single tiger lily in a vase. Two cushions were placed on either side in front of the two plates.

Beca ushered Chloe to the table while she retreated to the kitchen to check on their meal. She returned to the living room with a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses. She sat Chloe down, pouring a liberal amount for herself and the redhead.

"Hang out here for a sec while I get the food."

Chloe complied, looking at the decorations adorning the table. "I've heard flowers usually mean something symbolic," she commented, fingering the tiger lily. "What does this one mean?"

Beca's face adopted an innocent expression as she returned, with the salad and breadsticks. "What makes you think I didn't just pick that flower 'just because'?"

Chloe's eyes narrowed, putting a helping on her plate. "Because you never do anything 'just because'."

"Well, looks like you're gonna have to find that out for yourself," Beca commented magnanimously.

Chloe waggled her eyebrows. "I'm down for that challenge."

Beca grinned, turning back to retrieve the baked ziti from the oven. She placed the pan before Chloe with a flourish. Chloe cut a square, placing it on her plate. She looked at the pasta dish dubiously before forking a bit into her mouth. Her eyes widened in astonishment.

"This is amazing!"

Beca laughed. "Don't sound so surprised!" she chided. "I've been living on my own for a long time. One doesn't survive on takeout alone."

Chloe shook her head. "I'm sorry I doubted you."

They settled into comfortable conversation, trading stories about their respective breaks and how classes were going. The talk turned to their families, and Chloe brightened as Beca asked how her parents were doing.

"They're both great," Chloe answered. "My dad's company got him tickets to the NFC Championship game, so he's beyond excited."

"Oh, yeah." Beca nodded her acknowledgement. "I heard about that. Apparently it's a big deal."

"You could say that," Chloe laughed. "It's a bit of an understatement. This is the first time the Falcons have ever hosted an NFC Championship."

Beca shrugged helplessly. "I don't know much about football," she admitted. "I mean, I caught a bunch of games with Art back when I lived in Brooklyn, but that's pretty much the extent of my exposure to it."

Chloe cocked her head. "I honestly can't see you at a football game," she admitted.

"Well, I couldn't really, either, but Art's a huge football fan," Beca divulged. "He lives and dies with the New York Giants. He's had season tickets since he was a kid."

"And yet you've never caught onto his fervor as a die-hard Giants fan?"

"I mean, it's fun to watch," Beca admitted. "But I'm not sure what goes on, to be honest. The rules are a bit beyond me. All I know is you want to get to the other end of the field and the ball is supposed to be kicked to the big, tuning fork-looking thing."

Chloe laughed. "Pretty much. So why go with him at all if all of this isn't really your style?"

Beca smiled, taking a sip of her wine. She shrugged. "Because he wanted to spend time with me and he took time off from work to do that. My dad never made that sort of effort."

Chloe's look softened. "You just wanted time with your dad, huh?"

Beca shrugged. "I guess I just wanted my dad to put me first for once," she confessed.

"I understand that," Chloe assured her. "More than you know."

xxx-xxx-xxx

Later in the evening, they retreated to the bedroom. Beca shook her head as Chloe flopped onto the mattress but didn't argue, merely clambered onto the bed beside her. Throughout the meal, they had fallen to their old pattern of random conversation. Beca could feel herself regressing back into that strange anomaly of comfort with Chloe. As they lounged on the sheets, Beca regaled Chloe with her latest communication with Ella Lynn and how the young singer had finally found suitable representation that thankfully was of a much more appropriate quality than Johnny Bad Suit. Conversely, Chloe had recounted Collin's face when she showed him the picture of the two of them and Mila Kunis.

As they talked, it was though an magnetic force field had been constructed between them. As their conversations progressed, they had inched closer together, slowly diminishing the sizeable gap Beca had established until Chloe was snuggled into Beca's side, the DJ's arm wound around the redhead's shoulders. When Beca commented on their current positions, Chloe had merely smirked.

"Face it, Mitchell, you just can't get enough of me."

Beca snorted. "But apparently you can." As Chloe's face fell, Beca sighed. "I'm sorry. Here we are having a good time, and I open my big, fat mouth."

Chloe shook her head. "No, I deserved that." She bit her lip, neck craning up to meet Beca's eyes. "Tonight was perfect, though. Thank you for that." Leaning in, she brushed a gentle kiss against Beca's upturned lips.

As she pulled away, Chloe's breath hitched as the smoldering spheres of Beca's eyes darkened with desire and want. Maybe it was the residual effects of the wine, maybe it was the rumbling of the constrained sexual frustration pulsing between them since their eyes met at the activities fair, but either way, the energy was palpable between the two women. The next moment sealed the culmination of that tension that had been building since that fateful encounter in a shower stall. In retrospect, neither could tell who moved first. Their lips had gravitated together, locking in a ferocious kiss radiating with sheer passion.

Trepidations forgotten, pushed aside for the night, Beca and Chloe lost themselves in a heated embrace. Beca pulled back first, her dark blue eyes heavy with the underlying question. Inwardly, Chloe warred with herself, but the vigor between them was something she couldn't deny.

In contrast to their previous kiss, this one was gentler. Where the kiss prior was carnal, this one was tender, far from the frenetic pace set by pure passion. Hands wandered caressing through the maddening barrier of clothing before Chloe could feel Beca methodically divesting her of any outward obstacles. Her shirt was flung somewhere into a corner and her jeans were unceremoniously yanked from her legs. Chloe swung a leg over Beca, perching herself astride the brunette. Beca cupped Chloe's hips, beginning a lazy ascent. When glorious golden skin gave way to silk and lace, a lazy smirk tilted Beca's lips. Deft fingers popped the clasp of Chloe's bra, pulling it from the redhead's shoulders. Chloe shrugged off the garment, pulling Beca up to quickly divest the DJ of her remaining clothing.

Chloe giggled, advancing on the DJ. Bracing her palms against Beca's shoulders, she shoved the smaller woman back. Chuckling as her back made contact with the mattress, Beca raised her head, seeking out Chloe's tantalizing lips, joining them together. A guttural groan tore from her mouth as Chloe slithered down her body, Chloe's mouth traveled down her chest, chasing nimble fingers as Chloe delved into the grooves of her hipbones, the palm of one hand innocently skimming against her center. Beca's breath expelled from her lips in a slow hiss as Chloe hooked her fingers into the waistband of her boyshorts yanked them down her legs.

Grunting with frustration, Beca flipped them over, pinning Chloe beneath her, that trademark Mitchell smirk firmly attached on her face. Sliding her hands up the inside of Chloe's arms to intertwine their fingers, Beca teased swollen and reddened lips, her nimble tongue tracing their outline. Chloe shivered as Beca's warm breath tickled her ear.

"You are such trouble, Beale," Beca breathed out, voice husky with want.

A predatory glint tinting dark blue eyes, Beca slowly slid down a lithe body. A whimper escaped from Chloe's mouth with the friction. Beca's nose ghosted down the center of Chloe's body, the light feathering touch following the burning path of her lips, Beca found a nipple, aroused to a sharp point, and sucked gently. Smiling into her breast as a stifled moan erupted from Chloe's throat, Beca kissed a trail to the twin, making sure to give it the same attention.

Her lips languidly traveling back up the redhead's body, Beca halted his journey at her pulse point, latching on firmly. An agile hand continued its jaunt, gliding down Chloe's smooth, golden skin to the silk-encased apex of her thighs. Muffling a gasp as Beca's knuckles brushed against the dampened material, Chloe writhed with pleasure as Beca hooked her index finger in the thin scrap of delicate material between her thighs.

"Do you want this, Chloe?" Beca murmured, her mouth inches from Chloe's ear as the DJ nudged wet folds. "Tell me," she implored.

A rasping moan rocked her senses as Chloe's head fell back against the pillows, "Yes. Please, Beca."

Indolently sliding the final barrier down slender, shapely legs, Beca teased Chloe's core, chuckling at the redhead's growled curse directed toward her way. The rumble rapidly transitioned into a lengthy sigh as Beca slipped a finger inside, gently penetrating her heated center. As a second finger entered between her legs, Chloe gasped sharply, the sensations consuming every inch of her body. With every thrust of Beca's agile fingers, Chloe allowed her pleasure to build, her hips lifting off the bed as Beca's thumb flicked languidly over her clit. Beca's mouth journeyed back up Chloe's body, taking a nipple between her teeth, and as the waves of her inevitable climax washed over her body, Beca's name burst forth from the redhead's lips in a dazed mantra.

Looking deep into the unending abyss of Beca's dark blue eyes, Chloe willed her pounding heart to still and her breathless pants to subside. Leaning down, Beca pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, parting her lips to grant Chloe's evading tongue access. Beca's mouth trailed downward to gently nip the smooth column of her neck, Chloe sighed.

Kissing the valley between her breasts, Beca stared down at the woman beneath her, flushed from their love making, her breath still coming in gasps. Returning her gaze through hooded eyelids, Chloe purred with satisfaction, rising up to glide her lips against Beca's. As Beca rolled off her, Chloe snuggled into the brunette. Catching her hand in Beca kissed her fingertips tenderly before ghosting another kiss against Chloe's forehead.

Wrapping Chloe in the security of her embrace, Beca rested her chin against the top of red waves. She sighed as the redhead drifted off to sleep. As Chloe's breaths evened out and steadied, Beca stared out into the dark. Call it cheesy and corny, but she had never felt so _much_ with one person. It was like she finally got what people were talking about when they sang songs about "Endless Love". What she thought was sentimental nonsense didn't seem as much any longer. Beca snorted to herself.

"Lord help me, but I love you, Chloe Beale."

In the dark, a pair of luminous blue eyes thought to have already drifted off into the land of blissful dreams snapped wide open.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Chloe Beale never liked mornings. Because with mornings came realizations. And with realizations came the inevitable heartbreak.

She gazed down at the peacefully slumbering DJ. Beca was tranquil in her sleep, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. She looked so young, so innocent, so _happy_. Chloe wished Beca could stay that way, like the Greek myth of Endymion, forever in slumber, granted the eternal bliss of dreamland. Because when those eyelids parted and Beca returned to the conscious world of the living, the heartbreak would come.

Chloe looked down once more at the DJ. Beca slept on. Chloe dressed, gathered her things.

And left.

As she exited the building, Chloe steeled herself. A tear leaked out of the corner of her eye. But nothing more. Internally, she felt the pang resonate. Externally, she brushed it aside.

xxx-xxx-xxx

The early morning sun roused Beca from a blissful sleep. She rolled over to seek out Chloe…

And frowned.

Her hand met cold, empty sheets. Beca's head popped up, eyes bleary from slumber. Even through a groggy gaze, she could see that she was alone in the bed. Beca threw on a t-shirt, walking through her apartment.

"Chloe?"

No answer.

She went through each room, poking her head in, looking for some sign of the redhead.

Nothing.

Beca stood in the middle of her living room, resisting the urge to sigh her frustration. She had the strangest sense of déjà vu. As though this had happened before.

Oh…wait…

xxx-xxx-xxx

Beca shuffled into WBUJ. She offered out a nod to the guy manning the phones. A point of his finger indicated that Jesse was in the back. Beca navigated to the main flow, hopping onto the no-sex desk and flopping on her back, her legs dangling off the edge. Jesse's head popped into her line of sight, his handsome features contorted into a concerned frown.

"Nothing?"

Beca flicked her fingers through the air. "Deafening silence."

"What did you do this time?"

"Same thing I did last time!" Beca protested.

"So you have no idea," Jesse elucidated.

"Whatsoever," Beca confirmed.

"Ouch," he sympathized.

"I don't get it," Beca grumbled, kicking her feet in agitation. "What is it that makes her flip the switch? What is it that triggers this…cold, aloof Chloe? How is it that she can even muster up 'cold' and 'aloof'? It seems so uncharacteristic."

"People have layers, Beca," Jesse reminded her. "You can't expect Chloe to always be shiny and happy."

"Yeah, but who knew Chloe even had _that_ layer."

Jesse bit his lip, hesitating. He surged forward, blurting out the first thing that ran through his mind. "Maybe that's your problem," he offered.

Beca paused before she slowly hefted herself up to a sitting position. "What do you mean?"

"Maybe because you didn't think she had that layer, you had expectations that things would be as easy as her personality. People aren't one-dimensional, Bee Sting, and relationships are far from that as well."

"Okay, fair point," Beca conceded, "but nothing before had even hinted to this aspect of her personality."

Jesse cocked his head. "Are you sure?"

Beca balked. "Huh?"

"Look, I'm just saying. Chloe isn't a cyborg. She doesn't have just one setting. These things typically don't just come out of nowhere. And people always have reasons for the way they act." Jesse sent a meaningful look her way. "You just have to figure out the 'why'."

'Why?' Inwardly, Beca huffed. It seemed as though everything in her life these days revolved around that question.

xxx-xxx-xxx

As Semis drew closer, Beca found herself no closer to figuring out the mystery that currently surrounded one Chloe Beale. The redhead avoided her like the plague. Aside from Bellas rehearsals, it seemed as though Chloe had fallen off the face of the earth, materializing only when the Bellas were together and disappearing just as quickly after rehearsals ended. To be honest, Beca wasn't sure if she wanted to cross paths with the redhead or not. She had gone through multiple scenarios in her mind what would happen if that interaction occurred. Much to her chagrin, her emotional responses ranged from angry, to contrite, to downright pathetic. It was though her brain wasn't sure whether she wanted Chloe back or she wanted the redhead to feel this agony as well.

Beca was pulled from her ruminations as a smooth, soulful voice permeated her consciousness, and she returned her attention to the Footnotes' performance. By the raucous cheers emanating from the crowd, she could deduce it was quite a spectacle, and she craned her head, looking to see for herself. Beca's eyebrows ascended upward as she took in the slick moves and sweet, soulful voice of the lead singer. The group was impressive, she had to admit. Their performance was dynamic, energetic, and obviously a crowd-pleaser. That would be hard to compete with.

Beca craned her neck back as she heard, "Bellas, five minutes" from behind her. She nodded to Jesse's roommate working as a stage hand as he sidled up to her. "Hey, Benji."

Benji Applebaum shot his wide, goofy grin her way, making a note on his clipboard. "Beca."

"This is as close to the stage as you get, huh?" She patted him sympathetically on the shoulder.

He sighed, nodding his head ruefully. "Bumper still doesn't like me."

Beca rolled her eyes. "Don't worry about guys like Bumper," Beca encouraged him. "Bumper wouldn't know talent if it shoved a foot up his ass."

Benji offered out a doleful smile. "Thanks." He nodded out to the Bellas as they waited on the wings. "You think you guys have a shot?"

Beca snorted derisively, her eyes watching the Footnotes like a hawk. "I don't know, Benj," she sighed. "This could end up really good or really bad." She frowned, eyes scanning over the Footnotes' lead singer. "Is it just me or does that kid look like he hasn't hit puberty?"

Benji followed her gaze, his mouth turned down in his own thoughtful frown. "He _does_ look awful young to be in college." He tapped her on the shoulder, gesturing to where the Bellas were huddling.

"You gonna join them?"

Beca sighed. "I'm going to cross my fingers this doesn't completely blow up in my face."

Benji cocked his head. "What do you mean?"

As the Bellas filed past, Beca patted him on the back. "Just watch, Benj…just watch."

Beca rolled her eyes as the predictable, painfully familiar intro to the Bellas' set. She could see the sound engineer roll his eyes, checking his phone. The audience grew restless, and Beca would bet her turntables Gail and John were commenting on the agonizing redundancy up in the booth. Her ears perked up, however, as Ashley's voice piped up from the back just as they began "The Sign".

_Been there done that messed around,  
I'm having fun don't put me down  
I'll never let you  
sweep me off my feet._

Beca saw Aubrey's face tighten at the interruption, but to the blonde's credit, she continued on with the performance. She looked over to the new Bellas. There was a palpable air of mischief radiating from the seven other girls, and she unconsciously straightened in anticipation. Beca grinned with pride. Her mix sounded awesome, seamlessly woven in with the Bellas' set. It served as almost an echoing cry to the lyrics of "The Sign".

_This time, baby, I'll be bulletproof  
This time, baby, I'll be bulletproof  
This time, baby, I'll be bulletproof  
This time, baby, I'll be bulletproof_

It was an interesting creation, Beca mused. Even with Aubrey and Chloe floundering to keep their places in the performance amidst the shock of the mini-mutiny, the other Bellas moved around them, their more intricate, much more modern dance steps a unified parallel to the set choreography. Stacie concocted an excellent counterpoint to the original choreography, having some Bellas stay in their initial formation while others performed the new steps.

If one were to be honest, their voices sounded better than ever. The simple arrangements of their setlist provided none of the dynamics that could possibly showcase all of the Bella's strengths. Honestly, Beca had no idea how great Ashley's voice was or even how well Denise and Lily handled the lower end. Beca even had a strong suspicion Lily had even more in her beatboxing repertoire and made a mental note to try and explore that avenue in the future.

Beca straightened as the faint sound of applause signaled the end of the performance, and she cringed as Aubrey practically stormed off the stage and towards the wings. There was no stopping the senior Bella as her steps took her straight to Beca, her eyes flashing green fire. Aubrey thrust her hands on her hips, bearing down on the smaller woman.

"What the hell did you do?"

Beca's eyes widened, though she didn't deny the accusation. She smirked. "You're gonna have to be more specific, Aubrey. I've done a lot of things that would cause you irritation."

"You orchestrated that monstrosity into a Bellas' set," Aubrey raged. "That was not something a Barden Bella would ever do!"

"Why not?" Beca challenged. "It was amazing! You had the entire audience engaged rather than practically falling asleep in their chairs."

"That's not what we do!"

Beca wasn't quite in the mood to back down. "Well maybe it should be."

Chloe chose that moment to speak up. "Aubrey, it really wasn't that–"

"Chloe, I don't need you defending her!"

"Stop!" Beca's voice cut through the argument. "You both need to back the fuck off. First of all," she turned to Chloe, "I don't need you defending me, either. You can defend me when you do me the courtesy of letting me know I'm nothing more than a one-night stand." Beca scoffed derisively. "I mean, let's be real. I don't want to put so much energy and romance into what's simply a good _fuck_, right?" She turned to Aubrey. "Secondly, I'm not going to apologize for orchestrating all of this. It was better than anything the Bellas could have ever come up with."

"Typical," Aubrey sneered. "I knew you weren't a Bella woman."

Beca reached her breaking point, exploding in a torrent of emotion. "Well fuck that! If this is what it means to be a Bella woman, I want no part of it!" she bellowed. "I don't want to be shoved into a mold I clearly don't fit in. I don't want to adhere to this pretense of what's seemingly perfection. It's boring, it's predictable, and even worse, it's an idealization. You try and shove us into those uniforms, make us move to your steps, and make us sing to your songs but it's not going to work. Those steps, those songs, those outfits did absolutely nothing all the years they've existed. You harp about the tradition, the oath, the ways of the 'Barden Bellas'. Newsflash, Aubrey, none of those 'perfect' women _ever won_. Twenty three years the Bellas have been around, and what has all that tradition gotten you?" Beca's stare hardened. "Absolutely _nothing_."

Her outburst seemed to startle the entire team into silence, but Beca was on too much of a roll to stop.

"I want to be different, I want to be a misfit, I want to be anything other than what you think I should be because I like myself, dammit! I'm okay with my heavy eyeliner and my attitude and my 'ear monstrosities' because those things are _me_."

Aubrey opened her mouth to respond, but Beca cut her off with a decisive slash of her hand.

"No!'" she growled, a finger pointed in definitive authority. "You've talked down to me since the moment I said I didn't prepare the song you wanted me to prepare. It's my turn." She threw an arm out, gesturing to the other Bellas who were looking at her in stunned shock.

"Are you that single-minded that you didn't notice how amazing that was? Are you that _dense_ that you weren't aware that the audience enjoyed that performance? So what if it wasn't your precious Bellas performance? It was _awesome. _You have that much talent to work with, and yet you're so obstinate to try and vindicate yourself that you can't even see how flawlessly Stacie's choreography fit into the performance or how seamlessly Lily and Denise matched the beat and lower end to both sets."

There was a murmur of assent as the two girls in question brightened considerably.

"But no! You ignore all of that because it isn't being held in a chokehold by the stupid scarf. Newsflash, Aubrey, you weren't going to win with that set. You never were."

The direct address jolted Aubrey from her stunned silence, and she regained a bit of her composure. "Well now we certainly won't."

Beca shrugged. "Maybe. But I'll tell you what that performance was in comparison to all the others. It was _memorable_."

Beca scoffed, lofting her eyes skyward in a desperate plea. She was absolutely exhausted both physically and mentally. "You know what? Forget it. This isn't even worth my time. I'm done with you." Beca leveled a piercing glare to one particular set of eyes. "All of you."

_DUN, DUN, DUUUUUUUN! Aw, c'mon, guys! You knew it wasn't gonna be that easy. I warned you! Coming up, we have the fall out from Semis, Jesse helps Beca work through some stuff, and a certain showdown takes place! Don't worry, though. Beca and Chloe will figure their stuff out, and we'll find out why Chloe keeps running. Stay tuned, it's gonna get even more fun. The songs used in this chapter were "Daylight" by Maroon 5 and "Bulletproof" by La Roux. _

_Thanks so much to everyone who's stuck with this story! I apologize for real life getting in the way. Please feel free to let me know what you think here or on Tumblr, I love to hear from you guys. Also, of course, please send love to CJ over on Tumblr. She is an integral part of the process and keeps me from bashing my head against the keyboard when the story doesn't flow right…or at all…_

_Until next time!_

_*ISP_


	10. Chapter 10

_Alright, Stoners. Get ready to be punched in the feels. I apologize, but this has to be done. Both girls are hurting and they're taking it out on each other. Don't worry, they'll make their way back, but both Beca and Chloe need to do some introspection for them to get to where they need to be._

_And without further ado…_

* * *

CHAPTER 10

_One for the money, and two for the show  
I love you honey, I'm ready, I'm ready to go  
How did you get that way? I don't know  
You're screwed up and brilliant,  
Look like a million dollar man,  
So why is my heart broke?_

Beca had never been in any sort of lasting relationship. To be honest, she never believed in them…perhaps that was a bit too cynical. It wasn't that she didn't think they were possible…she just never had a reason to think otherwise. Life experience had hardened her to that reality.

That was what made this whole situation with Chloe so eternally frustrating. This was the first time she had bared herself in this manner, the first time she allowed herself to buy into the idea that a relationship could sustain itself.

Chloe seemed like everything she wanted in a long-term relationship. Beca swore up, down, and sideways that Chloe was a relationship type of girl. That's why she was so confused looking at the remnants of her broken heart.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Much to her chagrin, Beca found that she was unused to isolation. Throughout her months at Barden, she was always in constant company with someone, whether it was one of the Bellas, Chloe, or Jesse. Now, however, that circle of accessible companions had dwindled down to just Jesse. And, naturally, he wasn't available all the time.

Without Bellas rehearsals and Chloe's constant demands for her time, her schedule had blown wide open, and she found herself in a constant rotation of studying and work. If she wasn't at the Barden Library – in completely different wing from where Chloe normally occupied – she was in her studio, laying down beats for artists vying for her attention. Much to her chagrin, it seemed that the tracks she was producing seemed to mirror her mood, ranging from the somber melancholy and aggressively angry.

Go figure.

Even as she tried to escape it, it seemed the Bellas followed her everywhere. Jessica was in her English class, Stacie's Intro to Anthropology class let out the same time as her Modern Philosophy class, and Fat Amy had classes in three of the same buildings. It wasn't as though she ignored the girls, quite the opposite actually, but she couldn't deny that it panged a bit each time she came into contact with them.

And as Beca sat in her studio, staring at her mixing console, sound bites from the track she was working on skating across her computer screen, she was met with a stark realization.

She missed those awesome nerds.

Damn.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Beca trudged into WBUJ, waving at Jesse as his head poked out from behind a shelf where he was, predictably, stacking records.

Jesse glanced up at her as she plopped herself on the desk in the middle of the station. He frowned as he gazed at his friend. She looked decidedly droopy, even more broody than usual.

"You look like shit."

"Thanks, J," Beca snarked. "And I really wonder how you don't have a girlfriend."

Jesse chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, dude. You just look more unkempt than normal." He grabbed a stack of records. "How you holding up?"

Beca sighed, propping her chin on her upraised knee. "I'm getting by. My calendar is a lot emptier than it's been these last few months."

Jesse nodded. "No more Bellas rehearsals to deal with," he deduced.

"Yup," Beca popped the 'p' lazily. "And no more Chloe to monopolize my time."

Jesse gazed up hesitantly from behind his eyelashes. "Have you talked to her?" he hedged.

Beca shook her head. She sighed, running a hand through her disheveled hair, even more ruffled than normal. "I don't think I've even seen her since the blow-up at the Semi-Finals." She glanced up hopefully at Jesse. "Why? Have you?"

Jesse shook his head. "Sorry. She and I have very different majors. The College of Sciences is completely on the other side of campus from the Performing Arts block."

Beca deflated, her face twisting with her disappointment.

Jesse cocked an eyebrow at her reaction. "Call me crazy, Beca, but shouldn't you be a bit more apathetic? I mean, you _are_ the scorned party here."

"Probably," Beca agreed. She crossed her legs on top of the table, hunching over to cradle her chin with a fist braced on her knee. A beleaguered breath whooshed out from her lips. "I don't know, J. I think I'd be more inclined to apathy or any other appropriate emotion if I knew the reason why her personality has done a complete one-eighty."

"Have you asked her about it?"

"I never had the chance to," Beca protested. "It was like a whirlwind transformation."

"And did Aubrey shed any light on this when you talked to her?"

Beca flopped backwards on the table, her eyes peering up at the dim lamps that provided scant lighting for the radio station. "She said to be careful going into this, that someone might get hurt," Beca divulged. "I thought she meant Chloe. Maybe she meant me." Beca scoffed. "Something tells me she won't be very forthright with any more information, though."

"Considered you served her a verbal beat down the last time you encountered her, no," Jesse mused. "I really don't think she would." He cocked his head. "But do you think she knows what's going on?"

"I have no doubt she does," Beca confirmed. "But, realistically, it's not her story to tell. This is something that has to come from Chloe."

Jesse nodded. "Yeah, I can understand that. She probably also wouldn't appreciate you hearing it from anyone else but her."

Beca hummed her agreement, letting her legs dangle over the edge of the desk. "Now the question is, when will I ever hear the story from her?"

Jesse shrugged. "This type of thing is delicate, Bee Sting," he remarked. "Deep, dark secrets don't just come out willingly."

Beca surveyed Jesse thoughtfully. She sat up, head cocked in consideration. "What do you think is the story?" She smiled, nudging her friend. "C'mon, use that movie logic. If this was a movie, what would be the plot?"

Jesse frowned thoughtfully, hopping up onto the desk beside her. "That's a good question." Leaning back on his hands, he tilted his head as he went through his mental encyclopedia of the possibilities.

"Well, I see two possibilities," Jesse elucidated. "The first is that she's probably gotten burned before. Like maybe some past lover who hurt her really bad."

"Okay…" Beca glanced at him. "And what? She's taking it out on me as some sort of transference mentality or something?"

Jesse shrugged. "Maybe."

Beca rolled her eyes. "And what's the second possibility?"

"That she's scared of the fact that you're in love with her," Jesse responded. "That might also stem from the fact that she was burned in the past."

"So…essentially what you're saying is that this is my fault," Beca deduced. "I had the gall to actually fall in love with her and that was the reason she bolted. Awesome."

Jesse picked up on the sardonic tone to the DJ's voice and hastened to reassure her. "It might not be as bad as you think, Beca. Maybe she was so spooked because there's a good chance she could fall in love with you as well."

"Is it really so scary?" Beca asked. Jesse could hear the vulnerability in her voice. "Is the thought of falling for me really that bad?"

"Of course not," Jesse assured her. "But for someone who's maybe lost a loved one or who is skittish about falling in love, it might be the scariest thing in the world."

"It's scary for me too, you know," Beca defended hotly. "I've never fallen in love with someone." Beca snorted. "Not my ideal first experience," she grumbled.

Jesse chuckled. "C'mon, Bee Sting," he chided. "You can't give up on it. For as crappy as it can be sometimes, love can be pretty awesome too." He nudged her. "Just look at your mom. She had both sides of the spectrum. In the end, it turned out just fine for her. You gotta weather the storm. Both the good and the bad."

Beca sighed, tipping over so her head lay on his thigh. "That sounds like a lot of work."

Jesse huffed. "As if relationships are anything but," he remarked.

"I wouldn't know," Beca admitted. "It's not like I have that much experience with them…"

"Honestly, it's a matter of how much you're willing to compromise," Jesse advised. "When it's bad, you gotta figure out if it's worth it to bend. Relationships are almost like a chess game. You have to anticipate the other person's move before they even think about it."

Beca nodded. "I guess so." She smiled. "Thanks, J."

"No worries," Jesse comforted her. "Always willing to help a bud." He snapped his fingers. "Oh, by the way, Luke wanted me to ask you when you were free for an interview."

Beca shrugged. "Whenever is most comfortable for you."

"Well, we want you on the prime slot, kind of the one that everyone will tune into. Midday is usually the best slot for college students. That sound good?"

Beca nodded. "Yup. Let me know what days work best for you." She snapped her fingers, remembering something. "Oh, but you should know I'll be gone from the seventh to the eleventh of February."

Jesse perked. "So, you heading back for the Grammys?"

"I've got a strong case with each of my nominations," Beca commented, mustering up a smile. "At least that's something I'll come home a winner in."

"That's the spirit." Jesse paused. "Can you bring back one of your Grammys so I can touch it?"

"…Dude, you are _so_ weird."

xxx-xxx-xxx

This time, as Beca stepped off the plane in LA, she had to admit there was a sort of melancholy air to her mood. Even the anticipation of the award show and the possibility of her walking away with a couple more Grammy statuettes did little to up her spirits. Even Jules noticed as her auburn-haired co-producer met her at the airport.

"Damn, Fanny," Jules drawled. "Who the hell rained on your parade?"

Beca snorted from behind her sunglasses, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "A deceptively conniving and callous redhead who ran over my heart with a large, metaphorical, multi-axel truck."

Jules whistled. "Ouch. Rough."

"You're telling me." Beca grunted, burying her hands in her pockets and flipping her hood up and over her head. "I feel like my heart's been used in a Whack-A-Mole game that's hit a perfect score."

"C'mon, dude, cheer up!" Jules implored, bumping Beca's hip. 'We're heading to the biggest night for the music industry, riding on multiple nominations! There's a lot to be excited about." She stopped, turning the DJ to face her.

"Look, Bec, I know this deal with Chloe is crap. If I could, I'd squeeze the truth out of her for you, but I can't." Jules grabbed Beca by the sweatshirt lapels, shaking the smaller brunette. "Don't let her ruin this weekend for you."

Beca quirked an eyebrow. "You say that as though winning is a guarantee."

Jules waved a hand. "Please, bitch. We have at least one of them in the bag. Just think of the payday this is going to reap us."

Beca smirked, leaning into her best friend. "I know this sounds arrogant," she hedged, "but do you think we'll ever get tired of winning Grammys?"

Jules snorted. "Dude, that's like saying we're ever gonna get tired of making music."

Beca smiled softly. "Yeah, that's not gonna happen."

Jules nodded, slinging an arm around Beca's shoulders. "If anything else, we'll always have the music."

"True that."

xxx-xxx-xxx

The week passed by in a whirlwind of interviews and appearances, answering the same questions about the impending ceremony and what her plans were for whatever upcoming project she had a hand in. Beca pasted a smile on her face, turning up the charm and charisma as she fielded the same redundant inquiries. She skillfully dodged the questions about her personal life with a coy smirk and shrug, noting with slight despair that there was a lot of interest on the rumors of her various romantic liaisons. But as the ceremony grew closer, Beca found herself busied with the logistics of how her evening was to proceed, starting with what she was going to wear on the red carpet.

Beca grumbled as Jules tugged her into the high-end boutique to be fitted for the tuxedo they had decided on. "Do I really have to be here?" she whined. "Can't I just wear something I already have?"

"Ohmigod, you're like a fidgety toddler," Jules groaned, practically shoving Beca into the store. "You're going to stand there, you're gonna be fitted, and you're gonna like it."

Beca huffed, her eyes rolling skyward as her shoulders slumped in defeat. "My life is ruled by pushy, red-haired women."

"Damn skippy," Jules asserted. "Just take comfort in the fact that you're gonna look hot when you accept that shiny, happy, gramophone statue."

Beca sighed, obligingly standing on the platform with her arms and legs spread as the designer flitted around her, taking Beca's current measurements to see if anything had changed since her last fitting.

Jules reclined on one of the comfy couches surrounding the platform, idly flipping through the pages of a fashion magazine. She smirked at Beca's clearly uncomfortable posture as the designer and her assistants orbited around the DJ.

"You talk to Red since?"

"No."

Jules cocked an eyebrow. "Do you want to?"

Beca dropped her arms as the designer disappeared to grab the ensemble she had crafted for the tiny DJ. "I don't know," she admitted.

Jules canted her head. "If there was a chance you guys could get back together, would you be open to it?"

Beca shrugged. "Dunno," she repeated.

Jules's gaze softened. "Were you happy?"

Beca's eyes dropped to the ground. Slowly, almost reluctantly, her head bobbed up and down in the affirmative.

"I'll tell you this," Jules began, leveling a significant look at her best friend. "I don't condone what Red did. Honestly, that sucks. And right now, your pride is on the line."

Beca's nose wrinkled. "Thanks, Jules, well put."

Jules rolled her eyes. "Not done, nimrod," she chided. "Look, this wallowing in self-pity thing is understandable, but when that grace period expires, what are you gonna do?" she asked rhetorically. "Are you gonna keep wallowing and let yourself waste away? Or are you gonna move on and get over it." She shrugged. "Your choice."

"Just get over it, huh?" Beca mused.

Again, Jules shrugged. "Well, it's obvious that being with Chloe makes you happy, but that's not an easy fix."

"What if after I'm done being pissed off and angry at the world, I want to be happier?" Beca asked.

Jules smirked. "Then you sit her down and browbeat her until you get to the bottom of whatever issues she has."

Beca scowled. "Awesome, Jules," she deadpanned. "You have _such_ a way with words."

"Right?"

xxx-xxx-xxx

Back at Barden, Jesse was knee-deep in to seemingly the only duty he had at the radio station: stacking music. He liked these moments, though. It was a time where he could simply think and contemplate without the buzz of someone else demanding his attention. It was full-on 'Jesse Time'.

Because, honestly, Luke tended to ignore him.

Therefore, Jesse was confused when he heard the door to the station open and the sound of footsteps gradually grew louder. Typically, WBUJ didn't have that many visitors, and Beca was really the only one who came by on a regular basis. His eyebrows ascended to his hairline as the familiar head of red hair came down to the booth level.

Chloe could tell she had entered enemy territory as the normally good-natured boy bristled slightly. She shot out her most innocent smile. "Hey, Jesse."  
The dark-haired boy nodded curtly. "Chloe."

Damn. Major fail. She sighed inwardly, gesturing vaguely. "Where's Beca?"

Jesse cocked his head, eyeing Chloe suspiciously. "Why?"

The huff she expelled was equal parts exasperated and rueful. "I just want to talk to her, Jesse."

Jesse's gaze grew sharper as his eyes swept up and down Chloe's form, trying to gauge her intent as best he could. "I don't think that's a good idea, Chloe."

"Please…I think I just…" Chloe huffed out a frustrated sigh. "I don't even know what I think."

Jesse's eyes searched the redhead once again. Even as he swelled with righteous indignation for his friend, he could still see how much their separation was affecting Chloe. And at the core, he really was a good guy. Jesse grunted his concession.

"She's down in LA for the Grammys."

Chloe nodded slowly. "Right," she mumbled, inwardly cursing herself. "I forgot that was this weekend."

Jesse sorted through his bounty, separating the CDs from the records and alphabetizing them to make his jaunt through the shelves as easy as possible. "She won't be back until next week."

Chloe deflated. "Oh, okay. Thanks."

As the redhead turned away to leave, Jesse succumbed to the compulsion that had been eating away at him the moment he saw Chloe arrive. "Why'd you do it, Chloe?"

Chloe stiffened. She kept her back turned to Jesse but responded, her voice heavy and her posture defeated. "You wouldn't understand, Jesse."

"Try me," he implored. "I just don't get why you'd just willingly walk away from someone like Beca."

Chloe finally turned back around to face the Treble. Jesse frowned. Her expression was as morose as he had ever seen on her face.

"It's complicated," Chloe mumbled. "There were a lot of things that went into it."

"What did she do?" Jesse asked. "What was it that gave you reason to walk away?"

Chloe glanced away, her hand tightening around the strap of her tote. "She fell in love with me."

Jesse's eyebrows shot skyward. "That was it? She fell in love with you?"

Chloe crossed her arms over her chest. "It was supposed to just be a casual thing."

"You don't realize how amazing of a gift that is, do you?" Jesse's voice grew impassioned in defense of his friend. "Beca's never given her heart to _anyone_ before. Why would you walk away from that?"

Chloe's eyes dropped to the ground, and she shook her head. "Because it was never supposed to be love, Jesse. She was never supposed to fall in love with me."

"But she did," Jesse persisted. "Like it or not, she _did_, Chloe, and I don't believe you really wanted to go."

"Maybe not," Chloe admitted, her eyes still fixated on the ground. "But it was the right thing to do."

"How?" Jesse shook his head. "How is denying yourself and Beca happiness the right thing to do?"

Chloe shrugged. "Because I could never give her what she wanted in return."

"That's not true," Jesse asserted softly. "I don't believe that you don't love her back, Chloe."

Chloe simply shrugged again.

"How are you so unaffected by all of this?" He mused incredulously.

"Because I have to be." Chloe's voice was barely a whisper, but Jesse could detect the monotone in the timbre, as though Chloe forced herself to nonchalance.

"Was it worth it?" Jesse demanded. "Was it really worth it for you?"

"I'm not sure," Chloe murmured. "But it was better than hurting her more by leading her on."

Jesse drew himself up, dark eyes boring into Chloe's downcast figure. "I don't believe this is the way it ends," Jesse declared. "I don't believe this is your guys' ending." He nodded, completely convinced in his assertion.

"You'll find a way, Chloe. You'll see."

Chloe sighed. "This isn't a movie, Jesse. This is real life. Not everything ends up with a happily ever after."

Jesse shook his head stubbornly. "The best film plots always take their inspiration from reality," he insisted. "That's what makes them so magical. Because there is a chance that it actually might happen. It gives people hope."

Chloe smiled solemnly. "There are a lot of things that I believe that aren't considered practical." Chloe shrugged helplessly. "I just don't think this is one of them."

xxx-xxx-xxx

_Do I actually look like an idiot, or am I just an idiot for letting Jules talk me into this?_ Beca mused to herself as she perused the image in front of her. Beca hefted a deep sigh as she tugged at the ends of her jacket, smoothing down the fabric. She took comfort that at least she wasn't shoved into a dress. The DJ glanced up as Jules emerged from the adjacent room, clothed in a floor-length evening gown, her hair carefully arranged in an intricate updo.

Jules grinned, moving to stand beside Beca in front of the mirror. "We look badass B. Mitch," she enthused.

Beca snorted, taking in their respective ensembles. "We look like bad prom dates," she deadpanned.

Jules rolled her eyes. "Matching indicates we're a _team_," she corrected. She reached over, fiddling with Beca's pocket square, the silver and deep scarlet color matching Jules's dress. Satisfied with the arrangement, she tugged teasingly on Beca's lapels. "Plus, you're so not my type."

"I feel like I should be offended," Beca commented, shoving her hands in her pockets. "Am I not hot enough for you?"

Jules barked out a laugh. "You're hot, B. Mitch, no doubt, but you're lacking in certain areas."

"That's what strap-ons are for, Jules," Beca drawled, a smirk tilting her lips as she offered out her arm for Jules to take as they headed out to the car. "All of the fun, none of the mess."

"Mmmm, no…" Jules closed her eyes, shaking her head in consternation. "I really don't want that visual in my head."

Beca's smirk merely widened.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Chloe huddled on the couch in her apartment, a bottle of wine her only companion as the television blared with the obligatory Grammy pre-show coverage. Outside, she could hear the annual Wild-in-Winter party going on a block away at the Beta Alpha Chi house. Normally, she would be more than down for a Beta party, but lately, she found herself in quite the funk. In the past, the days following her independence from her latest fling often constituted nights out in search of the next person to entertain her for a bit.

This time was different.

All she could think about was Beca and the piercing glare shot her way backstage at Semis. She had seen Beca annoyed, irritated, and exasperated, but never angry. Chloe had never before seen Beca angry. Not only angry but hurt. The expression on Beca's face had been haunting her.

Still, Chloe chose to remain stagnant. It was never meant to be love. No matter how much she felt for the DJ, no matter how different things seemed to be with Beca, love was never in the cards. She made that mistake once.

Never again.

"What are you watching?"

Chloe started in surprise as Aubrey's voice cut through her internal manifesto. She pressed a hand to her heart to calm her racing pulse before answering her roommate.

"Geeze, Bree. You startled me."

An elegant blonde eyebrow flit upwards. "You looked pretty pensive."

Chloe shrugged. "Just have a lot on my mind," she mumbled.

Aubrey nodded, but thankfully didn't comment any further. She gestured to the television. "What are you watching?"

Chloe smiled, taking a sip of her wine. "Music's biggest night," she mimicked the announcer. "The Grammy Awards."

Aubrey cocked her head in consideration, perusing the screen thoughtfully. "Anything worth it?"

Chloe laughed. "For you or in general?"

Aubrey rolled her eyes. "Worthwhile for _me_ to watch," she edified.

Chloe was well aware of her best friend's distaste for modern musical stylings and shrugged. "Not unless you want to watch Bruce Springsteen get the MusiCares Person of the Year award." She gestured to the screen. "Apparently Kelly Clarkson's supposed to performing a tribute to Carole King and Patti Page."

Aubrey's nose wrinkled. Neither really seemed appealing…well, the Kelly Clarkson performance was mildly intriguing, but not enough to compel her to stay. "Pass."

Chloe shrugged, taking a sip of her wine. "Suit yourself." She took in Aubrey's appearance. "Where you headed to?"

The blonde glanced down at herself, shrugging casually. "Just a study group for my Senior Seminar course."

A copper eyebrow inched skyward in a clear challenge. "A bit dressed up for a simple study date, aren't you, Bree?"

Aubrey glanced down at herself again. Okay, so the top she wore was one of her designer pieces – she would never admit to exactly how much she had paid for it – and, _alright_, maybe a bit too shiny for a casual study date. And _maybe_ her jeans were the ones that molded quite nicely to her posterior…

Chloe smirked. "That cute grad student TA is going to be there, huh?" she deduced. "The one whose class meets after your Seminar in the same room, right?"

Aubrey's blush was response enough. She lifted her chin in defiance. "It's not like it's random," she defended. "He's taken Seminar with Nelson before. He's been offering out some good insights and helping our group."

"What happened to not wasting time with boys?" Chloe teased.

Aubrey's face fell slightly. "Well, I guess I don't have to worry about that anymore. I can expand my interests elsewhere."

Chloe labored to bring the levity back in the conversation. "And Mr. TA is interesting?"

"Enough," Aubrey conceded.

Chloe rolled her eyes. "You deserve better than just 'enough', Bree."

Aubrey's face softened. "So do you, Chlo," she countered. "Even if it is a tiny elf with a big mouth and horrible piercings."

Chloe frowned. "You really think that?" Her expression was extremely dubious. "Even with what she pulled at Semis?"

Aubrey shrugged. "Doesn't change the fact she's still good for you, Chlo."

Chloe pondered that one long after Aubrey left. Her eyes shifted back to the television. Of course, as the fates would have it, the camera focused on Beca and Jules as they exited their limousine and made their way up the red carpet.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Beca stepped out of the limo to an explosion of flashbulbs and a hoard of cameras clamoring for her attention. She pasted on an unaffected look, schooling her expression to neutrality as she posed briefly for the hoard of photographers vying for that amazing shot before placing herself in front of the Grammy banner for the official photos.

The red carpet seemed endless, but Beca tried to make it as entertaining as possible. She mingled with her fellow musical royalty, shook hands with Jay Z, accepted a hug from Frank Ocean, and compared tuxedos with Janelle Monáe (the elaborate stitching on the woman's jacket lapel was _to die for_).

Beca looked towards the barrier along the red carpet, spotting the fans hanging against the obstacle. She skirted along the side obliging the masses eager to see their favorite stars. Beca grinned as the screams intensified with her approach. She loved this part the most. Being able to interact with music fans was the best part of this whole business. The thought that her attention could possibly influence the next generation of artists, DJs, and those of the creative mind was such a blessing and a humbling notion.

Beca reached over, scrawling her signature on a program of a young girl, posing for pictures with her and her friend. She made small-talk with a couple of others, before her agent called her back for some obligatory interviews. Pasting a smile on her face, Beca turned to face the various television personalities posted up along the red carpet.

xxx-xxx-xxx

She had never really paid much attention to the pre-show festivities in the past, but this time, Chloe was riveted to the television. She drew in a deep breath as the pre-show coverage focused on Beca. The tiny brunette was clothed in a gorgeous tuxedo. A white, form-fitting jacket trimmed in black lay over Beca's crisp, black button-down shirt. A silk black and white diamond-patterned ascot tie lay arranged just below the high-necked wing-collar, secured by a steel tie tack, a diamond shining from the center of the black enamel square, and tucked into the black vest. Slim black pants covered the DJ's legs, leading to a pair of heels made to look like a classic men's wingtip oxford.

Chloe watched as Beca shot out her crooked half-smile for the cameras, her makeup done to perfection, highlighting the DJ's dark blue eyes. The outfit was a perfect masculine complement to Beca's feminine curves, and she looked absolutely stunning. The cameras were drawn to her striking figure, to her wry, crooked smile, and Chloe could tell the personalities interviewing the DJ were breaking out every charming line to coax something out of the elusive Lady B other than her trademark smirk and flippant, coy answer.

Jesse was wrong. It wasn't that she was unaffected. In truth, she did feel. In fact, she felt too much. With every day that passed, she remembered that look on Beca's face, and it cut her deeply, viscerally, and poignantly. The hurt and anger in Beca's dark blue eyes sent a pang thudding through her heart. It tore her up from the inside out because in some miraculous way, the little DJ had burrowed beneath her defenses. As Chloe had meticulously traversed each layer of Beca's prickly personality, Beca had done the same. The difference was, Beca yielded to the inevitable; Chloe fortified her resistance.

But, she was correct when she asserted that it had to be done.

Taking in the E! News coverage, Chloe watched as Ryan Seacrest blathered on and on about whatever clever segue he had concocted before introducing Beca. Unconsciously, the redhead straightened in her seat, her eyes fixated on the screen.

Beca accepted Seacrest's hug and kiss to the cheek, her mouth curved in her usual lopsided smirk. She accepted the compliment warmly as he commented on her on her outfit.

Seacrest shot her a wide smile, engaging the DJ. "So we haven't seen you in awhile. Where have you been?"

"Oh, you know, just talking with some producers about hosting this show called Idol," Beca deadpanned, keeping a completely straight face. "They want to replace their current guy. Say he's some no- talent hack with absolutely zero charisma." She waited a bit before breaking character and grinning as she and Seacrest shared a laugh. "Dude, no, I'm totally kidding." She shrugged, her hands casually in her pockets. "Uh, yeah, really, I've just been getting my degree. You know, trying to join the ranks of the educated in the country and hopefully become a productive member of society."

"So making millions of dollars in the music industry isn't productive enough?" Seacrest joked.

Beca laughed, shaking her head. "No, not quite. My dad has a doctorate in English, so he wants me to at least attempt to complete an advanced education. Plus, I promised my mom before she died."

"That's a noble aspiration," Seacrest complimented. "So you're up for a couple of awards, and the word is that you're practically a shoo-in for all of them. What do you think about that?"

Beca lofted a hand, absently patting her updo, a move reminiscent of the DJ scrunching a hand through her hair if it was down. Chloe absently noticed that the cufflinks that were partially hidden beneath Beca's jacket sleeve matched the tie tack.

"Uh, I mean, I don't know," Beca answered. "There is some serious musical genius here, and it's been an amazing year for music." She shrugged. "It's an honor being nominated with such great talent. To say I'm a 'shoo-in' is kind of disregarding the genius represented in the rest of the nominees."

"We've heard some flutterings of some developments in your love life. Is there any truth to that?"

Beca's mouth tightened in a sardonic smile. "You know, relationships are a fickle thing," she drawled. "Sometimes reality and perception are two very different beasts, and my perception was different than her reality. I thought it was worth my time and effort," she shook her head, looking away from Ryan, "but it wasn't." Beca shrugged as she looked to the camera. "Hey, no worries. Things were mediocre." She caught a model's eye, sending out a wink. "It'll be easy to find spectacular for me to bounce back." The model approached Beca, laying a kiss on her cheek, running a coy hand down her arm. Beca returned her attention to Ryan, her smirk widening. "Easy enough, right?"

_Ouch_, Chloe winced. That one hurt.

xxx-xxx-xxx

As the ceremony went on, Chloe gradually forgot about the pre-show interview and started to enjoy the event. This year's lineup had some great artists performing, but Chloe was really looking forward to Beca's performance with Kai Maxwell. Their song was up for Record of the Year, and although it faced some stiff competition from the likes of Fun, Gotye, and Taylor Swift, it was widely believed their song was a shoo-in to win.

Kai Maxwell was the latest pop sensation to hit the charts. A hybrid of a lyrical rapper and a soulful crooner, he had producers and other artists scrambling to work with him. Luckily, Beca had seen his talent and potential early and snapped him up before anyone else could even contemplate his worth. She had been his driving force, producing his debut album – currently platinum, thank you very much – and had found a way to utilize all of his strengths. And now, that relative shot in the dark brought them to the Grammy stage.

Chloe grooved to the beat of Kai's song, relatively low-key in comparison to the grandiosity of Taylor Swift's opening act and the theatrics of the Bob Marley tribute. There were dancers and special effects, but certainly nothing that took away or distracted from Kai's performance. All-in-all, Chloe could certainly categorize it as one of the best of the night.

Chloe perked up as Beca ascended to the stage, crooning her lines in the song to a roar of approval from the audience. It had caused quite a stir when people realized that the mysterious featured vocals in the runaway hit single were none other than the elusive DJ Lady B. It was an understood that Beca was responsible for some of the most successful tracks on the radio, but her work came mostly in the background and behind the scenes. To thrust herself into the spotlight, singing the hook to an already brilliant and catchy song, was almost mind-blowing to the rest of the music industry who had firmly categorized her as the mastery and genius of the elements away from the stage and bright, shining lights. And yet, there she was, her voice reaching out to all areas of the Staples Center, playing to the crowd and the greater home audience.

Chloe had always wondered about Beca's on-stage style. When the DJ spun, there wasn't much care taken to Beca's outfit. After all, no one was really watching her. However, with the spotlight on, and millions of people watching DJ Lady B perform, Chloe was curious to see what kind of style Beca would rock as she performed. Needless to say, Beca looked absolutely amazing in a cropped leather vest over a vintage, sleeveless t-shirt regaling the awesomeness of Blondie and Debbie Harry, the hem showing just a bit of Beca's stomach as it molded to her ample chest and slender torso. An interesting array of studded leather belts wove around Beca's waist, artfully threaded along the band of tight gray slacks, and her trademark heeled combat boots were at her feet. A fedora was artfully perched atop of her perpetually mussed hair, completing the look.

It hurt watching Beca in her element, Chloe mused. There was a palpable joy radiating from the brunette as she sang, her voice reaching a soaring note that few had ever heard before. Chloe could remember the first time she had been enchanted by that surprising voice, the very first thing that drew her in. Very few people knew just how well Beca could sing, but here she was, revealing that particular talent to the world. Beca's voice rang out, powerful and resonant, the DJ bent over as she poured emotion through her microphone and out to her audience, captivating them with every melodic word.

A standing ovation greeted as the pair as Beca let the last note resonate, dropping the hand gripping the microphone to her side, her other hand lofted above her head, her eyes tightly shut with the emotion and exertion of her performance. Chloe could see the smile playing at the corners of the DJ's mouth. There was no doubt Beca could hear the roars of approval, could feel it in her bones. Chloe let out the breath she didn't realize she was holding. As much as the station labored to make the viewing experience as real as possible, it was sorely lacking in this instance, but Chloe could still feel the shivers from the powerful, stunning performance even as it transmitted through the synthetic nature of a television broadcast; she couldn't even imagine what it would have been like live.

xxx-xxx-xxx

As the show continued, Beca found she hated the waiting part most of all. It was like someone had tied a string around her waist and dangled her over the edge of a cliff. And just for shits and giggles would let her swing back and forth every so often.

By nature, Beca wasn't really a competitive person. It just wasn't in her personality. More often than not, she let things roll off her back – not without a scathing remark or a cutting witticism, of course. But she wasn't the type to go all cutthroat, take-a-pipe-to-someone's-kneecap, gung-ho in the spirit of competition. That was honestly too much effort and bad juju for her to deal with.

However, when it came to music, and it came to the business side of music, there was a large part of her that strove to be the best. Being the best, by music standards was a bit more ambiguous. But "best", by Beca's perception, meant that if an artist had a pick of anyone to work with, she would be the first person on the list.

That ambition had driven her from the very beginning. Fueled by her own desires and a potent need to prove her academically-minded father wrong, she pushed herself to accept nothing less than the utmost success. And, now, for the third year in a row, one of Beca's tracks had been nominated for a Grammy for Record of the Year. She remembered the very first time it happened, the very first time she heard the announcement that she would be up for one of music's most prestigious award. Back then, her nomination was only in her specialized Dance/Electronica category rather than the general category where the most prominent awards were given, but the thrill was no less potent. Naturally, the first person she called was Art.

_**Beca's breath left her lungs in a wave of emotion and shock as she looked at the full list of nominees for the 2008 Grammys. She barely registered her agent's shouts of excitement on the other end of the line as her eyes scanned over her name amidst heavy hitters like Justin Timberlake, Rihanna, and Mika. She vaguely recalled bidding her agent farewell as she looked down at her phone. There was only one person she wanted to talk to. Her hands shook so much with the adrenaline pulsing through her veins that it took her several tries to punch the right contact name in her favorites. He picked up on the first ring.**_

_** "Bumblebee!" he crowed. "I saw the list! I saw it!"**_

_** The sheer delight in Art's deep voice, almost shrill with his exhilaration, resonated right through the phone line, straight to her heart and she burst into tears.**_

"_**Art," she sobbed. "I did it…I've made it."**_

_** She could hear his tears as well. "You did, Bee. You sure did." She heard him sniffle. "I'm so proud of you, honey. So, **_**so**_** proud of you."**_

_** "I love you, Art."**_

_** "Love you, kiddo."**_

Lost in her thoughts, Beca almost missed the announcement, but Jules's insistent nudge at her side signified that she had indeed won. A genuine smile bloomed across her face as she stood, and she turned to hug Jules. Slapping palms with Kai, they made their way to the stage. As they were presented with their Grammy, Beca motioned the younger man forward. As he began speaking, Beca remembered how she wasn't always that confident about her abilities, and her insecurities manifested themselves in one of her first producing gigs with a little-known artist that under Beca's guidance would create a multi-platinum album.

_**Beca pushed through the doors to the studio. She had to get out of there. The pressure was stifling, so much that it seemed to wrestle any creative juices into a submissive chokehold. It seemed as though she was Atlas and the entire world had been placed on her shoulders.**_

_** Her hands fumbled with her phone, and she pressed Art's name, needing to hear his comforting, familiar voice. He answered almost immediately. "Beca? Are you alright?"**_

_**The sentence came out in a rush. "I don't know if I can do this, Art."**_

_** Art laughed as though the idea was frankly the most ludicrous thing to ever come out of her mouth. "Don't be silly, Bee," he chided her. "Yes you can."**_

_** "I'm way out of my league here, Art," Beca insisted. "This isn't me making mixes on my laptop at the house. This is the music industry. Someone's **_**career**_** is in my hands!"**_

_** "So?" Art challenged. "Honey, you've never doubted yourself before. Why now?"**_

"_**There's a lot riding on this," Beca mumbled solemnly. "I don't want to screw up."**_

"_**Well, the way I see it, you have two options," Art remarked. "You can be afraid, play it safe, and give them something that you know will be good but predictable…" Art paused. "Or you can go all-in, take a risk, and make something memorable. Don't you remember what your mom told you?"**_

"'_**If you can find the music where others can't you can be different'," Beca recited.**_

"_**Exactly." The tone in the word was warm. "I know you can do this, Bumblebee. I am absolutely, positively, one hundred-percent certain you can. And I know she'd be too."**_

"_**Thanks, Art."**_

_**The smile was evident in his voice. "No problem, kiddo. Go get 'em."**_

_** Beca hung up the phone feeling much better about herself. She fortified her reserve, taking a moment to center herself. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and closed her eyes. The memory washed over her as clear as though she had just experienced it.**_

**"Don't you see? You can find music anywhere. You just have to listen."**

_** Listen, Beca implored herself. Listen for something that others can't hear. She could hear her mother's voice, immersed herself in its inherent comfort.**_

**"And if you can find the music where others can't, you can be different than everyone else."**

_** Beca's eyes popped open as a thought intruded into her moment. They sparkled with a gleam that had been absent. It was a bold notion, but with the right…Yes, Beca decided, she knew how to do this. Music was her one certainty in life, and she knew exactly what to do.**_

Beca shook herself from the fond memory as Kai turned to her, ushering her forward.

"And, of course, this all wouldn't be possible without this woman, right here."

Beca smiled, stepping up to the microphone. "It seems like every time, it becomes more surreal," Beca began. She looked down at the trophy. "A lot of work went into this with a lot of people behind the scenes. Thanks to Kai for lending me his voice. Thanks to Jules, Kenji, KB, and the rest of the team. Thanks to the label for giving me my chance, my representation, agents, and managers. Thanks to my family, my parents, especially my stepdad Art for all of his support, and the fans, of course." She glanced skyward, lofting the statuette up. "As always, Mom, this is for you. Thank you for teaching me how to find the music."

As Beca descended the stairs to head backstage to meet the press, she couldn't help but grin.

xxx-xxx-xxx

The after-parties had just as much pomp and circumstance as the actual ceremony did, Beca mused as she posed for pictures just outside of the lavish nightclub her label's president had rented out for the night. She waved to the fans, signing a few autographs before entering the club. The multiple floors were filled with the beautiful and wealthy, celebrating the multiple wins the label had accrued for the night.

Beca made her way to the VIP lounge, her drink order quickly filled. She shook hands with her label's president, schmoozing with the other label bigwigs before turning her attention to the rest of the party. She grinned as Jules waved her over to a table with a couple movie stars and models, and Beca eased down into the cushioned seats, letting the music calm her. For once, she didn't mind playing spectator – although she did hijack the turntables for a short set just to appease the label's president.

Beca took a sip of her drink as the group around her idly chatted. She threw in her opinions of the ceremony, fielding praise for her performance. Mostly, Beca simply relaxed, absorbing the excitement of the night. It was a bit bittersweet, she mused. Here she was, the proud owner of two more Grammy statuettes for her already well-decorated mantle but for some reason, it felt like an empty victory.

She sighed, downing her drink. It seemed that despite Jules's urgings to the contrary, Beca had allowed this crazy situation with Chloe to dampen her mood amidst the festivities. She resisted the urge to slap herself. She really needed to break out of this funk.

Beca smirked as a Victoria's Secret Angel waggled her fingers in her direction.

Huh…

That could definitely do it…

Beca gravitated towards the Angel and her similarly-employed friends. She called a waiter over, ordering a round for the table as she seated herself amongst the women. A twinkle to her eye, she turned up the charm, easily entrancing the group. It might have been subconscious, but she was well aware of the cameras subtly pointed her direction as the few photographers allowed into the party circled the room. Call it a juvenile stunt, but Beca made sure that at least one of them caught a shot of the Brazilian supermodel draped across her lap and another caught a shot of the Swedish one pressing a kiss to her neck.

Never let it be said that Beca Mitchell was one to take things lying down.

xxx-xxx-xxx

As Beca relaxed on the plane, she couldn't help the thoughts from flickering through her mind. It seemed as though her life existed in two world: the glitz and glamour of Los Angeles and the music industry and the low-maintenance, easy-going atmosphere of Barden. She existed equally in both worlds, but it seemed as though it was getting harder to leave one for the other. LA had been a nice escape for a bit, but she had to go back…and unfortunately face the mess she had left behind.

Back in the world of Barden University, Chloe was still bombarded with images and news coverage of the Grammy awards. Beca was prominently featured with her multiple wins, but even more so with what leaked out from the after-party circuit. Needless to say, Chloe was not amused when she glanced to the magazine rack while in the checkout line at the grocery store and was promptly greeted with a cover photo of a hoard of unfairly gorgeous women hanging over Beca.

Chloe grabbed the tabloid, the normal trashy, low-quality source of fodder, and perused the story. It was one of many, and even _People_ featured a small photo in the corner highlighting Grammy after-party coverage. Her eyes scanned over Beca's figure, obviously comfortable with the scantily clad women hanging all over her. Beca had clearly thrown on the charm in the photo, as each face reflected palpable delight. The knife drove a bit deeper.

"Are you going to buy that, hon?"

Chloe glanced up at the checker. A melancholy look crossed her face, and she shook her head. "No."

xxx-xxx-xxx

It was easy to shift back into the swing of school, but by no means less draining on her brain. This learning stuff was exhausting. Beca huffed out a sigh, packing away her notebook in her bag. She rubbed her eyes, feeling a dull throb pulsate from behind her eyeballs. She may have become enlightened towards the merits of her education, but it didn't mean she particularly enjoyed the constant browbeating it induced on her brain.

The class of current concentration was English. 19th Century literature to be exact. It wasn't one course she particularly enjoyed…possibly because her instructor, Dr. De Leon, was particularly enamored with her father and had been exceptionally disappointed when the daughter of the incomparable Dr. Warren Mitchell had very little interest in her father's chosen specialty other than what it could do to satisfy her education requirements.

Beca burst out of the English building, cursing beneath her breath. When Dr. De Leon got into one of her moods, she liked to call on Beca frequently, testing how prepared the DJ was for the lecture. No doubt to report back to her father, Beca scoffed. So caught up in her ire and annoyance, she wasn't watching where she was going and stumbled into another person, sending her things spilling on the sidewalk.

She bent over, picking up the strewn papers. "Oh, geeze, I'm sorry."

"No, my fault, I wasn't looking where I was going."

Beca's head popped up at the familiar voice, and she drew in a deep breath as she locked onto Chloe's bright blue eyes. She schooled her features into a mask of impassivity, gathering her fallen things.

"No worries," Beca mumbled, shoving her things into her bag.

Chloe straightened. "Did you have fun at the Grammys?"

Beca paused. She sighed as she stood as well. "Look, Chloe, I'm really not in a place where I can make small talk with you, alright?" She hitched her backpack higher, tugging anxiously at the straps. "Stuff between us isn't just going to disappear."

A copper eyebrow shot skyward. "Yeah, you looked really broken up about us with Victoria's Secret models hanging all over you."

Beca's eyes hardened. "Nothing wrong with having a little fun," she drawled.

"I certainly hope 'fun' doesn't end up with you catching something that might stick around for awhile," Chloe shot back.

"Like you would know anything about sticking around," Beca countered. Her blue eyes sparked with cold fury.

"I never asked to stick around," Chloe defended.

"Well, I never asked to fall for you, yet it happened, and it looks like it was the biggest mistake I could ever make thinking someone like me could ever be loved by someone like you."

The admission startled Chloe to silence, and she recoiled in surprise. "Beca…"

"No," Beca growled, backing away from the redhead. "I don't want your pity. I don't need anything from you. I can get what I got from you anywhere."

This time, Chloe's face fell, and the breath whooshed from her lungs like Beca had physically struck her.

Beca shrugged negligently. "Hurts, huh?" she murmured. "Feels like someone's squeezing your heart dry, doesn't it?" She nodded with satisfaction. "Good. Now you know how I feel."

"And I didn't feel anything?" Chloe challenged.

"I don't care if you did," Beca returned. "The point is, you left me. Am I supposed to feel guilty or something because I'm trying to forget about you? I'm not obligated to you, Chloe."

Chloe squared up to the smaller woman. "You're acting like it's just as easy for me to go on knowing that I hurt you."

Beca's head lolled back, her groan of exasperation loud and labored. "Well it was obviously easy enough for you to walk away." Beca glanced down, taking a deep, cleansing breath.

"I think it's my turn to walk away."

Chloe's defiant façade wavered as Beca rotated, readying herself to depart. "Beca…"

Beca paused, her shoulders slumping in defeat. She kept her back to the redhead but still glanced over her shoulder. "What, Chloe?"

"I really am sorry."

Beca scoffed, shaking her head. "That does me absolutely nothing, Chloe. It's just words."

xxx-xxx-xxx

Their conversation weighed heavy on her mind as Chloe made her way back to her apartment. It was almost as though she was in a haze, and her feet automatically walked back as though she was on autopilot. Chloe closed the door, resting her forehead against the wood.

"Chlo? You okay?"

Chloe sighed, shaking her head.

Aubrey approached her best friend, drawing the smaller woman into an embrace.

"I ran into Beca," Chloe mumbled.

Aubrey's eyes sparked with furious fire. "I really don't want to hear her name right now," she raged, her face a mask of indignation.

Chloe recoiled in surprise.

"Sorry," Aubrey huffed, softening. She relaxed, blowing a wayward strand of her hair away from her face. "That dick-lick Bumper followed me from my nine o'clock class crowing his triumph and waving around that fucking Semis trophy." Aubrey practically growled her displeasure. "I wanted to pull an Amy and shove the stupid thing up his ass."

"Ouch," Chloe remarked with a wince.

Aubrey waved a hand. "Whatever, Bumper Allen should not be on my radar. He's already hit his peak. I wouldn't be surprised if a year from now he's joining the Tonehangers." She looked to her best friend with concern.

"Are you alright?"

Chloe's eyes watered as she slumped down onto the couch. "She hates me."

"Oh, sweetie…" Aubrey slid a comforting arm around the redhead's shoulders. "I'm sure she doesn't hate you. She's just hurt and lashing out. You can't blame her."

"She was so angry," Chloe sighed, her face turning into Aubrey's sweater. "And I miss her."

"Chloe…"

"I feel horrible, Bree." Chloe's voice was as defeated as Aubrey had ever experienced.

"Chloe, you should have been honest with Beca in the first place," Aubrey chastised lightly. "That way all of this could have been avoided."

"You know how hard this is for me, Aubrey."

"Yes," Aubrey conceded. "But I also know there's a woman out there who fell hard for you, Chlo, and she's completely heartbroken." Aubrey ducked her head down, eyes searching Chloe's.

"And I know, as hard as you tried to fight it, there's a good part of you that fell right along with her."

"It wasn't supposed to happen this way," Chloe insisted.

"No, but it did," Aubrey countered. She sighed. "Chloe, even if you never continue this relationship with Beca, at least make things right with her. Beca deserves at least that."

When Chloe hesitated, Aubrey leveled her with a cocked eyebrow. "Not unless she doesn't mean enough to at least try to mend some bridges."

Chloe didn't answer for a long time. Her chest lifted and settled with her hefty sigh. "That's not fair and you know it," Chloe chastised.

"Is it?" Aubrey challenged. "Because from my end, she really must not mean much if this is how you're handling the situation.

"She does mean something," Chloe admitted. "More than I thought she could. I've never felt so _connected_ to a person before."

"Then you have to fix this, Chlo," Aubrey encouraged. "You have to give yourself a chance to be happy even if it scares the hell out of you."

Chloe sighed, nodding slowly. She leaned over, wrapping Aubrey in a secure hug. "Thanks, Bree." She gestured to her room. "I think I'm gonna lie down."

Aubrey nodded, watching Chloe go. A contemplative frown crossed her features before Aubrey stood, grabbing her purse and exiting the apartment.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Beca awakened with a start at the staccato of thumps on her front door. She had half a mind to simply ignore whoever was behind the door when a very familiar screech sounded through the wood.

"Mitchell, I know you're in there! Open up! I'm not leaving until you do!"

Beca groaned her protest long and loud, hefting herself from her mattress. Shuffling to the door, she wrenched it open with a scowl.

"What the fuck, Aubrey?"

"Nice," Aubrey drawled sardonically, her hands planted on her hips. "We need to talk."

"No," Beca grunted. "I really don't want to talk to you about the Bellas."

"Not about the Bellas," Aubrey dismissed Beca's claim, pushing past her and into the apartment. "I'm here to talk about Chloe."

Beca crossed her arms over her chest, rolling her eyes as she shut the door. "I don't want to talk about her."

"Too bad," Aubrey snarled. "Because we're gonna talk about her."

"What's it gonna take for you to walk out the door?" Beca asked rhetorically. "Because I'd so rather stick needles in my eyes."

Aubrey's mouth twisted in distaste. "Look, Mitchell, I have a terribly depressed redhead moping in my apartment who I'm sure hasn't showered in a couple of days."

"And what?" Beca challenged. "You expect me to fix it?" She snorted derisively. "You're delusional."

"This isn't like Chloe," Aubrey insisted.

"I don't care if it isn't like her," Beca spat back. "I'm pretty sure all concern I ever had for Chloe flew out the window when I was treated like some cheap, two-cent whore."

"Look, I know you're not feeling particularly agreeable towards Chloe, but you have to have some compassion towards her, right?"

"You're right," Beca conceded wryly. "I'm really not feeling too accommodating." She cocked an eyebrow. It was answer enough. Beca rolled her eyes.

"Why does everyone forget I'm the wronged party? In case you've forgotten, _I_ was the one who woke up alone. It's not like Chloe's the innocent one here."

"Jesus, Mitchell, have some compassion. She's feeling just as shitty as you are!"

"I'm sorry, is that supposed to make me feel bad?" Beca threw her hands in the air. "Good! I hope she feels bad! I hope this is tearing her up inside. Then maybe she'll feel a modicum of what I felt when I was led to believe what we had was more than what it apparently was."

Aubrey eyed the brunette. "C'mon, Beca. Surely this has happened to you before."

"I'm no saint," Beca acknowledged. "I've slept with a lot of different women, I've slept with multiple women in the same night, sometimes indulging in multiple partners." She could see Aubrey's face twist in displeasure. "But I don't mess with people's hearts. I have never treated them like they don't matter. I made sure those women felt like they meant the world to me, made them feel like they were everything I ever wanted. Even if it was only for one night."

"Beca, you don't know the whole story," Aubrey tried to explain.

"It would help if someone told me!" Beca countered. "I'm not asking Chloe to expunge the secrets of the universe! I just want to know why she did what she did. Do you know what it's like, Aubrey?" Beca challenged, her voice barely reached the decibel of a whisper, but the pain saturated through the words resonated as though Beca had shouted. "Do you know what it's like to think that you had everything you've ever wanted in the palm of your hand, then just have it all disappear just as quickly?"

"Beca…"

"I feel _duped_, Aubrey. I feel like I've just been made the world's biggest fool." Beca shook her head. "I never thought a single person could cause me so much pain."

Aubrey softened, her eyes showing sympathy despite the loyalty she felt towards her best friend, admittedly not the innocent party in this scenario. "You said she was worth it," Aubrey whispered. "You said she was worth all this effort."

"I did," Beca acknowledged. "Because I thought she might have felt the same way. I thought she did feel the same way."

"So you're just going to give up?"

Beca's eyes hardened. "The way I see it, I have a choice," she explained. "I can continue to suffer in this inexplicable agony, wondering what I did wrong…or I can choose to be as happy as I can be."

"But you have the chance to be happier," Aubrey persisted. "I'm sure you and Chloe can work this out."

"Maybe," Beca conceded. "You know, a couple of weeks ago, I'd be willing to take that risk." She shook her head. "Not so much anymore."

Aubrey really took a look at the brunette.

"I'm tired of feeling like this," Beca mumbled, rubbing her hands over her face. "I'm tired of trying to figure it all out." Beca's shoulders slumped. "I'm just _tired_."

xxx-xxx-xxx

As Aubrey left with one final plea to at least talk to Chloe, Beca cast a thoughtful gaze to the door long after the blonde departed. Beca grunted her displeasure. She threw on some clothes, grabbing her phone and headphones, and trumped out of her apartment towards campus.

Beca hefted a heavy sigh, plopping herself down on a bench in the middle of the main courtyard in front of the student union, watching the organized chaos around her. Students and staff wove around each other in the intricate dance that skated up and down the sidewalk. Her headphones filtered music from her phone to her ears.

_I gotta take a little time  
A little time to think things over_

Beca snorted as her phone shuffled to the next song and the voice of Mick Jones lamented with her situation. Ugh…damn, freakin' Foreigner…

Still, the lyrics rang true, and Beca appreciated the irony of it all…even if she didn't particularly embrace it.

_In my life, there's been heartache and pain  
I don't know if I can face it again  
Can't stop now, I've traveled so far  
To change this lonely life_

Geeze, the music gods were having the time of their life with this one. The song seemed to sum up everything that was going on in her life. If this was some trite, teen show, she would be singing her sorrows away in a dimly lit auditorium curiously empty in the middle of the day with a complete band backing her like it was commonplace to randomly break out in song. But, like Tommy had so eloquently divulged, this was not some high school experience where she could sing and dance her way through any big social issue – or confused sexuality, he had mentioned…not like that was the problem. Nope. That was high school and this shit was real life, Tommy had said. As hyperbolic (and frankly ridiculous) as his monologue was when she witnessed it hidden from sight in the wings of the auditorium, Tommy had a point. Beca had to go about this like a big girl.

Beca leaned her head back against the bench. She thought of her past dealings with romance in its many multi-faceted forms. Love was something she thought unattainable, something that didn't seem doable in the cards considering her general personality and rather complicated lifestyle. She had seen what it could do to the strongest of women and even of men. Frankly, Beca wasn't sure she had the fortitude to be able to weather the ups and downs of a relationship.

Then she met Chloe.

And as the perky, effervescent redhead burrowed even deeper beneath her defenses, the prospect of a relationship – of love – didn't seem so daunting if Chloe was the one to whom her attentions would be focused. She could picture herself falling in love with Chloe Beale, and the prospect of such an endeavor excited her in a way nothing ever had before.

For once, Beca Mitchell was ready to fall in love.

She thought love had found her.

She was wrong.

So very wrong.

_I wanna feel what love is  
I know you can show me_

Damn, freakin' Foreigner…

xxx-xxx-xxx

Beca wasn't quite sure what compelled her to do so, but somehow, her footsteps took her to her present location. She shuffled from side to side, gazing up at the quaint colonial house in front of her. She had been here before, but certainly not voluntarily. Inwardly, she cursed to herself, wondering how circumstances had gotten so dire that she willingly found herself in front of her father's house to solicit advice. Maybe it was the tumultuous relationship he shared with her mother, maybe it was because he was just as experienced in the art of abandonment, but maybe, just maybe, Warren Mitchell could shed some light on her current situation.

With another beleaguered sigh, she reached out, pressing the button against the side of the house. It wasn't long before she heard footsteps and the door opened.

"Beca!"

Warren looked both surprised and elated that Beca was on his doorstep. Beca forced out a tight smile, nodding her discomfort. "Dad."

"This is a surprise!" Warren stepped back, ushering her in the house. "Come in."

Beca obliged. "Where are Sheila and Oliver?"

Warren chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "Sheila's with her girlfriends for the afternoon, some sort of spa thing, and Oliver's actually at a seminar for 'Brilliant Minds of the Next Generation'…or something."

Beca wrinkled her nose. "They have seminars for eleven year-olds?"

Warren shrugged. "I guess so."

Beca shook her head. "Man, there are a lot of wedgies in Oliver's future." Beca smirked. "You might have to pay for a lot of therapy some time down the road."

"Maybe," Warren conceded. "But right now, he's happy."

"I suppose." Beca smiled ruefully. "You've finally got your little academic."

"Hey, don't sell yourself short, Bec," Warren chastised her mildly. "You're doing alright for yourself school-wise. I never thought you were dumb, just unmotivated."

"What, so I just imagined the constant looks of disappointment shot my way when you bothered to be home?" Beca asked.

"Look, I'm not proud of how things went with you and your mother. I was…inexperienced, I guess. I never really understood why you'd rather be doing your music thing than reading Hemingway or something," Warren admitted.

"That's because Hemingway is irrationally boring," Beca countered. "And, c'mon, Dad, it's not like any of the stuff was relevant to music. I knew what I wanted out of life and formal education wasn't going to give it to me."

Warren chuckled. "I guess not." He looked fondly at his daughter. "Saw you on TV," he commented. "It was kind of cool watching you win those awards."

Beca smiled, shrugging. "I've been lucky. The right people have wanted to work with me."

Warren grinned. "I saw you with that Rhiannon girl."

"Rihanna, Dad," Beca corrected with an eye roll. "There is music outside of the Motown era and the Eagles, you know."

Warren smirked. "You forgot Earth, Wind, and Fire."

Beca rolled her eyes.

"I admit, I was kind of proud," Warren confessed. "When you were performing during the show, you looked so happy up on that stage."

"I was happy," Beca acknowledged. "If I had to choose, the stage and the studio are where I'm happiest."

Warren nodded thoughtfully. "You know, all these years, I thought I didn't understand you at all. Maybe I understand you too well," he remarked. "We both have our passions. For me, it's books. For you, it's music. And we love those passions with everything in us."

"So much that we forget about how we're supposed to love other stuff too," Beca added.

Warren sighed ruefully. "Exactly." He cleared his throat. "Speaking of performing, I heard the Bellas didn't make it to the next round. Sorry."

Beca chuckled ruefully. "Yeah. The group mutinied against the setlist and used one of my arrangements to hijack the performance."

Warren winced. "Yikes."

Beca nodded. "Yup. That didn't go over too well with the senior captain."

"I'll bet," Warren chided. "Sounds like it was a mutiny of epic proportions. How did Chloe feel about it?"

"Chloe and I…" Beca bit her lip. "We're kind of…not talking at the moment."

"Why not?"

Beca sighed. "It's complicated."

Warren cocked his head. "How so?"

Beca shrugged. "I thought things were more than they actually turned out to be."

Warren frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I thought she was looking for a relationship," Beca explained. "I let myself fall. Turns out she wasn't."

Warren winced. "Ouch," he sympathized.

"Yeah." Beca hung her head. "I felt so…duped. You know, I've been so cautious with relationships, and I thought I was finally ready. I thought she'd be perfect, and I thought I had finally got it right."

"So what happened?"

"It's not worth it, Dad," Beca sighed. "Trying to figure out what went wrong when I thought everything was _right_? It was easier to just walk away."

"So quitting was the answer," Warren challenged her gently.

"Really?" Beca's eyebrow quirked upward, the gesture filled with incredulity. "You're gonna talk to me about the sanctity of commitment? You left us," she reminded him. "You left _me_."

"I did…" Warren conceded ruefully. "Definitely not my finest moment." He sighed, his head lolling back. "Your mom and I…we tried to make it work, but we weren't happy."

"So you thought you'd find happiness somewhere else?"

"I don't know what I was thinking." Warren ran a hand through his hair. "All I know is that I thought it would salvage all the relationships."

"By walking out on us?" Beca dared him.

"I never said it was the most flawlessly executed notion," Warren countered wryly. "C'mon, Bec, it's not like it didn't work out in the end. Your mom was happier, you were happier…"

"Was it worth it?" Beca asked.

"Parts," Warren admitted. "I'm not particularly proud of the way our relationship ended up, but I'm trying. It's not easy when you're constantly shutting me out, though."

Beca absorbed that for a moment. Maybe it came with the wisdom and maturity of her elder years, but she did concede that point. He was trying…as misguided as his attempts were sometimes. Maybe it was time to meet him halfway…somewhat.

"Yeah, well, I shut everyone out," she replied, her tone dry and defeated. "Don't take it personally. It's just easier."

"It's also lonely," Warren commented softly. "Is that what you really want?" he asked. "To push people away until only the most obstinate or the most convenient stay?"

Beca sighed. She didn't answer that question. It was too difficult, and she wasn't quite sure she really wanted to analyze that point. With another introspective sigh, she glanced up at her father through her eyelashes.

"What should I do, Dad?"

Warren absorbed that for a moment, relishing in the fact that for the first time in quite a long time, his daughter was actually asking for guidance. He smiled ruefully, lamenting that it had been beyond a decade since they had this sort of talk.

"Well, you've got to get to the source of the problem," he advised. "If you really care about this girl, you have to bend a bit."

Beca's eyebrow rose skeptically. "So…do I confront her about it or let her come to me?"

"Well, Bec, I don't know Chloe, so I couldn't tell you what would be more effective. Ultimately, that's up to you, but I will say this: get away from Barden. Go do…whatever it is you're gonna do for Spring Break. Maybe you'll get some perspective." Warren cocked his head. "That reminds me, what are you doing for Spring Break?"

Beca grinned. "I'll be down in Cabo San Lucas," she divulged. "A big entertainment network is paying me a buttload of money to host their Spring Break party."

Warren cocked an eyebrow, his mouth curving upwards in a very familiar smirk. "Yeah…that's gonna be a _great_ distraction."

The laugh escaped her mouth before she could even contemplate its reason, and Beca clapped a hand over her mouth. "Oh, geeze, Dad! Really?"

Warren spread his arms in protest. "What? I was young once! Did you think you were a test tube baby or something?"

Beca's nose wrinkled in her own gesture of protest. "Gross, Dad. As far as I'm concerned that's exactly what I was. Nothing you say can tear me out of my blissful ignorance."

They shared a laugh together, relaxing into comfortable silence.

"Thanks, Dad," she said softly.

Warren smiled. "Any time, Bec."

xxx-xxx-xxx

Days later, Beca descended the steps of a private luxury plane and disappeared into the depths of a stretch Hummer limo that took her to the five-star, luxury hotel along the shores of Cabo San Lucas. She looked out to the white, sandy beaches where barely-dressed co-eds roamed the small expanse of paradise. The first thought that materialized in her mind was that Chloe would have loved the place.

As quickly as the thought manifested itself, Beca vanished it from her consciousness, thoroughly chastising herself.

No.

Part of the point of this trip was to _forget_ about Chloe Beale, to erase any and all associations with the redhead from her consciousness. As of this moment, all of her energy was going to be spent distracting herself with everything Cabo San Lucas had to offer. She was going to enjoy her Spring Break. She was going to completely immerse herself in the drunken revelry typically characteristic of this week away from school.

Consequences be damned.

That initial night in Cabo, Beca set out to do just that. The first engagement on her agenda was a gig at one of the most exclusive clubs in the area. Crawling with young college kids flooding the dance floor, she lost herself in the music. A group paid a hefty sum for a VIP pass that had them hanging out just to the right of the platform. At a break in her set, Beca trumped down to their table to introduce herself, and they could only stare in wide-eyed awe at the person they only knew as DJ Lady B. Beca Mitchell was a non-entity to them. Beca caught the attention of one girl in the group, a tall, willowy brunette with luminous green eyes. The girl bit her lip, casting a coy glance up and down Beca's body. The DJ smirked her best rakish, roguish smirk, descending down to sit beside the girl. It wasn't long before the college co-ed had inched closer to place her long, lithe frame practically in Beca's lap, providing the DJ a rather nice view down the front of her dress. Beca smirked as a sly hand landed on her thigh.

Distraction, indeed…

_Boom. Sucker punch. Yeah, I know. I'm sorry. Necessary evil and all. I hope you guys liked it. The song used in this chapter is by Lana Del Rey titled, "Million Dollar Man" and the ever-classic "I Want to Know What Love Is" by Foreigner. I won't say much about the next chapter, but I will say that the theme is secrets. I'll let you think that over…_

_Until next time!_

_*ISP_


	11. Chapter 11

_Alright, Stoners! Here we go! Beca's in Cabo, Chloe's in Atlanta, and we've got some stuff that needs to come out. Just a warning, this is a HIGHLY emotional chapter that touches on a lot of different feelings both good and bad. You WILL get punched in the feels. But, this is the catalyst for __**everything**__. You'll see what I mean…_

_As usual, thanks so much for the love! I adore you all._

_And without further ado…_

* * *

CHAPTER 11

_Tell me what you want to hear  
Something that were like those years  
I'm sick of all the insincere  
So I'm gonna give all my secrets away_

Beca had never been one to be open when it came to feelings. It was a skill she had perfected when her parents had first started fighting, her honed defense mechanism. She learned to school her features into a carefully controlled mask of impassivity and nonchalance. That way, when her parents saw her, they assumed she was unaware of the troubles that plagued the Mitchell household.

In reality though, Beca was very perceptive to the changing dynamic of her parents. While outwardly, she radiated a 'devil-may-care' demeanor, inwardly, she curled herself into a ball, hiding from the rest of the world as she sobbed. But that was inwardly. Beca was the queen of avoidance. She knew exactly just what to do to banish reality in her mind.

The problem was…eventually, she would have to face what she was running from. And sometimes, her reality manifested itself in as blunt a manner as a punch to the face.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Okay, so her father was right; Beca could admit it. A place like Cabo San Lucas was as close to paradise as she could possibly get. Plus, between the beach, the booze, and the babes, Beca was very much distracted when she wasn't spinning for the hoard of coeds littering the portion of the resort rented out by the music channel for their annual beach bash.

Beca stepped out of her bungalow, taking in the tropical climate and the gently wafting breeze. She looked to her left, waving at one of the other big name performers in the bungalow beside hers. The music channel giant had been kind enough to rent out a set of residences a little ways away for its celebrity guests. Beca appreciated the slight isolation. It gave her just enough space to be able to appreciate and balance out the chaotic energy teeming from the other end of the beach.

A short walk took her to one of the hotel's many restaurants, and her manager went over the schedule for the day. Beca took in the itinerary, muttering notes for Vera to jot down. Beca hummed to herself, nodding in satisfaction. It would be a busy day, potentially a busy weekend. Perfect for distracting herself from wallowing.

Beca ventured out to the patio of the restaurant and down towards the ocean. Leaning down, she slid off her flipflops, and stepped out onto the beach. Head tilted up towards the clear, cerulean sky, the warmth of the sand warming her toes, Beca just took in her surroundings, the sights and sounds of her literal paradise. Her eyes raked over in the endless expanse of flawlessly white sand, the gently flowing waves with the sound of the water crashing into the shore provided a soothing complementary melody. It was a tranquil scene made even more picturesque with the steady heat of the sun beating down against her skin.

A cool, disinterested gaze passed over the landscape. Her head tilted as a woman passed, and navy blue eyes followed the gentle sway of her mocha-colored hips accentuated by the flattering bikini. The thought struck her.

There were women.

A lot of women.

A lot of scantily clad women.

Boobs.

Beca smirked. Yup. Goal for the week: Distractions.

xxx-xxx-xxx

By contrast, Chloe was in no place exotic, nowhere exciting. With no other options that seemed particularly appealing, she decided to spend break at home. Naturally, her parents welcomed her with open arms, but with everyone else scattered around Georgia and with Carson currently in Spain…or was it Italy?…regardless, the house felt empty with just her and her parents. Collin was a constant fixture, but it just wasn't the same. Collin and her father tended to bring business home sometimes, and if Chloe had to hear one more thing about Apple stock vs. Google stock, she was going to throw something.

Without the rowdy nature of her brothers to distract her, Chloe was often left to her thoughts. And honestly, they were rather conflicted with what had just transpired between her and Beca. Coupling all of that with the fear of her impending surgery to repair her nodes…

Chloe wandered through the house, stopping in front of the pictures that lined the walls. Her gaze settled on her favorite one, a large photo of her and the boys. Four brunettes, one blonde, and one redhead at the end, poked out from the treehouse looking down to the ground where Beau had taken the picture. To this day, Chloe wasn't sure how the six of them fit in that narrow doorway.

She could see him clearly as though the last five years hadn't passed. She could picture his youthful, handsome face, the boyishly tousled blonde hair – he always was the master of the finger-comb – the blue eyes that always seemed to sparkle with mischief, and that gorgeous, lopsided smile that made those eyes crinkle at the corners.

He had always been a wild one, a restless spirit, like a young colt who refused to be tamed. His All-American good looks belied his rebel without a cause demeanor and lack of regard for authority.

His history had been spotted with adversity from the beginning, coming from a broken home with a dad in and out of jail and a mom who just didn't care. He had stood up for Carson when they were kids, and the two became thick as thieves. So they took him in and made him one of their own, an honorary Beale. She remembered the first time she had really connected with him, a few days after Carson had brought him around for the first time. She was ten, and he was twelve, almost thirteen, two years older than Carson. It was an interesting first impression, she recalled.

* * *

_**Chloe bounded through the front door, her father right behind her. She looked to plop down on the couch but hesitated when she saw the form already sprawled across it. He was the guy Carson had brought home one day after school. There was a flurry of awkward introductions, as the rough-and-tumble boy was not the type of friend Carson typically had over. Even more perplexing, Carson had promptly identified the boy as his new best friend in an emphatic declaration to the rest of the family. Chloe was uncertain how her happy-go-lucky brother connected with the rather gruff and surly boy. He seemed rather unpleasant; not the most approachable being in the world. Chloe inwardly shrugged. If he was friends with Carson, he couldn't be all that bad.**_

_** "Hi," she chirped, sitting down beside him.**_

_** He grunted in response.**_

_** "I'm Chloe," she introduced herself.**_

_** He glanced at her, piercing eyes scanning over her from head to toe. She beamed at him, shooting out her most innocent smile. A corner of his mouth twitched. She supposed it was his version of a smile.**_

_** "Jack," he responded.**_

_**Chloe nodded. "Pleased to meet you. Why Jack?"**_

_** He cocked his head, seemingly surprised at the question. "What do you mean?"**_

_** "Why'd your parents name you Jack?" she edified.**_

_** "Why'd your parents name you Chloe?" he countered. **_

_** "My mom really liked the name," Chloe answered. "Her great aunt was named Chloe, and Mom was really close to her. Then they gave me Abigail because it means 'Joy of the father' because I was going to be the only girl and Daddy's always wanted one." Chloe lowered her voice to a whisper. "Don't tell the boys. It's why I'm the favorite."**_

_** He chuckled, shaking his head. "Your secret's safe with me," he promised. He grew quiet. "I don't know," he admitted. "I seriously doubt my parents put that much thought to my name. They probably went with the easiest name they could think of." He snorted wryly. "It's about right. They don't give jack shit about me."**_

_** Chloe frowned. She couldn't imagine why parents wouldn't care about their kids. **_

_** "Well, we'll make up something." Chloe smiled. "It'll be like your entrance into the Beale family."**_

_** He shrugged, seemingly humoring her. "Alright," he agreed. "Let's have it."**_

_** Chloe thought about it for a second before an idea hit her. "Oh! I know." She turned to him. "Have you ever heard the story of 'Jack and the Beanstalk'?"**_

_** He looked at her dubiously. "Uh, isn't that the story of a guy who stupidly trades a cow for beans, then takes advantage of the kindness of a woman to steal from her, only to kill her husband when he tries to take back what is rightfully his?" He thought for a moment. "Yup, I've heard of it." **_

_** Chloe frowned. "Well, when you put it like that…"**_

_** He cocked an eyebrow. "Are you trying to tell me I'm a jackass?"**_

_** "No!" Chloe insisted. She giggled. "I see what you did there."**_

_** He only smirked. "So what **_**are**_** you trying to tell me?" he asked.**_

_** "If you look at it while being positive," Chloe put an emphasis on the operative word, "you'll see that Jack did everything he could to help his family and fix his mistake. And he chopped down the beanstalk to stop the evil giant from messing everything up!" Chloe grinned. "Maybe one day you'll slay a giant!"**_

_** Suddenly, he threw his head back and laughed.**_

_** "So I'm Jack the Giant Slayer, huh?"**_

_** Chloe shrugged. "Why not? Think of it as a new start with a new family."**_

_**That idea seemed to startle him into silence. He looked at her for a very long time before a corner of his mouth tilted up in a wry smirk. He threw an arm around her, squeezing gently.**_

_** "You're alright, Chloe Beale."**_

* * *

Chloe could feel the tears slide down her cheeks. She should have known back then that it was different. She should have known back then. It just seemed as though she was destined to make the same mistakes.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Beca meandered through the resort towards where the main beach party was being held. She smiled at people as she passed, stopping every so often to field requests for autographs or pictures.

For as much as her celebrity was sometimes exhausting and irritating, these times with the fans certainly made up for the aggravation. Beca grinned, scrawling her name across a woman's chest and posing for the accompanying picture, pointing cheekily to the expanse of skin marred with her John Hancock. Inwardly, she smirked at the memory of Bumper marching through the lobby of an auditorium, the Regionals trophy lofted over his head as he crowed to his adoring crowd – mostly manifested in his own delusional mind – that he was willing to sign breasts. If she could count on both hands the actuality of that instance happening, Beca was certain she would probably have two fists to show for it.

"Mitchell!"

Beca glanced up at the address, and her face brightened at the sight of the fellow DJ. Scarlett Stone was an Australian import, a hybrid model/television personality/fellow music maven. She was one of the first people Beca had connected with upon moving to LA, and they forged a strong friendship that had endured through the years. Beca grinned, rocking up on her toes to accept the firm hug.

"Hey! What are you doing here?"

Scarlett grinned, flashing a set of perfectly white teeth as they walked towards the set. "You may be the headliner, Mitchell, but you can't spin all the time!" Scarlett smirked. "I'm one of your alternates so you can go get shit-faced if you want."

Beca looked the woman up and down. Tall and willowy, Scarlett was quite the oxymoron at times. She was at her best in her casual fashionista persona, showing off the assortment of tattoos that crawled up her arms and over the rest of her body, but she could also glam it up in an evening gown. Either way, with her delicate features, high cheekbones, and a stunning pair of eyes colored the palest shade of icy gray blue, Scarlett was nothing short of a knockout. Currently, Beca's fellow DJ sported a bikini top beneath a cut-off t-shirt sheared off at the sleeves and midriff to show off her toned arms and chiseled stomach.

Beca nodded to the top of Scarlett's head, currently a startling shade of platinum blonde and arranged in a faux hawk. The last time she had seen her friend, Scarlett had sported long, flowing raven-colored locks. "You went short again."

Scarlett nodded, pinching the point between her palm and fingers. She shrugged blithely. "Needed a change."

Beca's eyebrow lofted skyward. "Broke up with Caroline, huh," she deduced, referencing Scarlett's on-again, off-again model girlfriend. From experience, Beca knew Scarlett's hairstyles were the strongest indicators of any changes in the woman's personal life. Beca wasn't particularly fond of Scarlett's fellow Australian, but she knew from her long-standing friendship that Caroline McKnight was one person Scarlett could never shake.

Scarlett scowled. "Uh-huh."

Beca smirked. "My sympathies."

"Whatever," Scarlet grunted. "I'm done with it."

"So you say," Beca chided gently.

"For now," Scarlett conceded.

Beca nodded sympathetically. "It's always a no until it's a yes," she remarked sagely.

Scarlett sighed ruefully, slinging an arm around Beca's shoulder as they continued on towards the set. "Bloody oath…"

xxx-xxx-xxx

Chloe sighed, relaxing back against her living room couch. Idly, she flipped through the channels, not really looking at what flickered across the screen. So far, the last Spring Break of her undergraduate college career was hardly the practice in debauchery and revelry as was commonly depicted in popular culture.

Her head lolled back against the couch as the memories assaulted her once again. A lot of her favorite moments occurred on this couch and it hurt just as much as it warmed her heart.

* * *

_**A fourteen year-old Chloe entered the living room, teasingly kicking Jack's legs off the couch cushions and plopping down beside him. She reached over, ruffling his already tousled hair.**_

"_**What's up, goober? Don't you do anything else with your life other than bum around on our couch?"**_

_**Jack grunted, sitting up and propping his legs on the coffee table. "I do stuff," he defended. **_

"_**Oh really?" Chloe teased. "Like what?"**_

"_**Stuff!" Jack shot back, his face transforming into a scowl. "Geeze, get off my case."**_

_**Chloe rolled her eyes. "Don't get sensitive," she chided him. "I was just curious." She bumped his shoulder against his. "I care, you know."**_

_**A corner of Jack's mouth tilted up in his slight manifestation of a smile. "I don't mind," he remarked in barely a mumble. "I was just kidding."**_

_**Chloe's eyebrow shot up, clearly conveying her skepticism. "You like that I constantly nag you."**_

"_**Yeah," Jack mumbled. "It's not so bad. I mean, you don't nag…you push, I guess."**_

_**Chloe snorted. "How could you possibly enjoy something like that?"**_

_**Jack was silent for a long time. He didn't seem to change expression, merely keeping that contemplative, sullen expression on his face. For a second, she was scared she had offended him or something. Therefore, she was completely and justifiably surprised when Jack leaned in, his lips brushing against hers.**_

_** It was a sweet kiss, chaste but tender at the same time. When he pulled away, Chloe's face had reddened, and her mouth fell open in surprise.**_

"_**Oh…"**_

_** He blushed. It was adorable. "Uh…yeah."**_

_** "**_**Oh**_**!"**_

_** Jack huffed. "Is that all you can say?"**_

_** Chloe giggled. "That was surprising!"**_

_** Jack grunted, his face contorting into a scowl. "That's it?"**_

_** "Aw, you're cute when you're fishing for compliments."**_

_** He glowered. It was almost a pout. "I'm not cute."**_

_** Chloe giggled again. "You totally are." She scooted closer to him, lifting the arm closest to her and draping it over her shoulder. Craning her neck up, Chloe returned his kiss and snuggled into the crook of his neck.**_

_** If Jack was surprised at the ease of her acceptance in the seemingly rapid change in their relationship, he didn't show it, merely tightened his embrace. For the first time in a long time, his face split into a wide, genuine smile. Just as quick as it manifested, it fell.**_

"_**Carson is gonna be **_**so**_** pissed.**_

* * *

And he was. But it didn't last _too_ long. And he only punched Jack once. After a petulant period where he fumed and raged, Carson begrudgingly accepted the relationship between his best friend and his baby sister – even that it was, like, the biggest violation of the Bro Code ever. But he was satisfied with his rather menacing threat that if Jack hurt Chloe, there were three other elements of pain that would swiftly and steadily make their way to Jack with a rather potent promise of retribution.

Little did he know that Jack wouldn't be the one he would have to worry about.

"Hey, honey."

Chloe glanced up at her mother as Jill sidled through the door. Her eyes fell onto the familiar scrubs adorning her mother's body, and she physically tensed. "Hi, Mom."

Jill looked at her daughter and took in the melancholy expression adorning her features. Mother's intuition kicked in, and she eased down beside her daughter.

"Is everything okay?"

Chloe swallowed hard. "Not particularly."

"Uh-oh," Jill remarked, her eyebrow lofting skyward. "I know that tone." She patted Chloe's thigh. "Spill."

Chloe sighed. "Girl problems, Mom."

Jill's brows furrowed, and she cocked her head at her daughter. "Beca? I thought things were going well for you two. Is it her celebrity that's getting in the way?"

Chloe shook her head. It certainly wouldn't be the first time an occupation had been the subject of tension.

* * *

_**Beale family dinners were never a somber or quiet affair. Between bites of food, the conversation flowed steadily, a constant exchange of words between family members. Finally, Collin asked the question that had been hanging over the family for the coming weeks. **_

_** Carson beamed. "Alright, alright, I'll spill…" He took in a deep breath. "After much deliberation, I decided to stay local and go to Barden."**_

_** The announcement was met with cheers, with a few good-natured boos from his other brothers. The Beale Boys had been scatted throughout the south for their advanced educations. Calvin was an alumnus of the University of Georgia, Cameron had gone south to the University of Florida, and Collin was currently at Georgia Tech.**_

_** "What about you, Jack?" Beau asked. "Have you decided where you're going?"**_

_**Jack picked at his pot roast. "Uh, I'm not going to college."**_

_**Jill frowned. "Really? But you studied so hard for the SAT."**_

_** "That wasn't the SAT," Jack corrected. "That was actually me studying for the firefighter exam."**_

_**Beau leveled a gaze on the boy. "You want to be a firefighter?"**_

_**Jack nodded. He nudged Carson. "Do you remember those back-to-back days where the fire alarm went off during third period?" **_

_**Carson snorted into his potatoes. "That was Vince Portman pulling the fire alarm to try and get out of his Calc midterm."**_

_**Jack laughed. "Well, I kind of got to talking with one of the firefighters a year ago." He shrugged. "I dunno. I guess I really liked what he had to say." He turned pleading eyes to the rest of the family. "I really think I can do it."**_

"_**I think it's excellent," Jill chimed in.**_

_**Carson held out his hand, which Jack slapped with a grin. "Same."**_

_**Chloe forced out a smile. "I'm excited for you, Jack."**_

_**Her words conveyed one thing; the expression on her face was something completely different.**_

* * *

Jill absorbed her daughter for a moment. "I'm surprised you're not with Beca wherever she is for break. I would have figured she would have jumped on the chance to take you somewhere exotic."

Chloe shrugged. She tried to keep a nonchalant attitude about the whole thing. "I wouldn't have gone with her. It's over."

Jill cocked an eyebrow. "Just like that, huh?"

Maybe she could fool her mom into believing it wasn't that big of a deal. "Yup."

The second eyebrow came to join the first. "Try again."

Rats.

Chloe sighed. "Look, Mom, we wanted different things."

Jill nodded sagely. "Okay, I think I know where this is going." She scrimmaged around for a bit before returning to sit beside her daughter. Jill opened up the photo album to the last page in the book. She pointed to the collage of photos, all surrounding a simple epithet.

**Jack Spencer  
**_Beloved son and brother  
Family is not just blood_

"What is this, honey?"

Chloe could barely handle looking at the pictures, seeing his smiling face amidst his birth and death dates. "His memorial."

"That's right, baby." Jill caressed the pages lovingly. "As much as we hate it, that's the reality. Jack isn't coming back to us."

Chloe's eyes shut tightly. The tendrils of knowledge tickled her conscious mind, but she pushed them back down. She knew Jack was never coming back, but to voice the real reason seemed so daunting. Chloe warred with herself, guilt and pain crashing against one another, battling for dominance. The inner turmoil simmered, welling up in her body until they burst forward in the only emotion that made sense: anger. Chloe shoved away the album, rising to her feet.

"Dammit, Mom! I know!" Chloe paced, her eyes burning with the combustion of the myriad of feelings conflicting with one another. "Every single fucking day I've known Jack is not coming back. Every single day, I don't feel him, I know he's gone forever. _I. Fucking. Know. _ And I have to…I have to…_" _Chloe couldn't finish her sentence, slumping down on the couch. Her shoulders shook with her heart-wrenching sobs as she curled herself into a ball, her head bowed.

"Have to what, sweetheart?" Jill asked softly.

"I have to live with it," Chloe whispered. "I have to live without him. I know he's gone, but it doesn't change anything."

"If you know he's gone, why are you holding onto him? He wouldn't want you to be like this." Jill reached out, stroking Chloe's hair. "I thought you were moving on from Jack. You looked so happy with Beca."

Chloe's eyes – her father's eyes – watered with tears. "Mom, I don't think I'll ever be able to move on from Jack. I can't be happy."

Jill frowned. "Honey, why not? It's been years. We all loved Jack, but we have to live our lives without him."

"I can't do it, Mom," Chloe insisted. She hung her head, her words coming out as a whisper. "Not when it's my fault."

Jill frowned, the confusion clear in her expression. "What's your fault?"

"Jack!" Chloe explained. "Jack died because of me."

Jill was shocked into silence. She dipped her head, taking in her daughter's tear-stained face. "Chloe, you can't really believe you caused his death."

"I did, Mom." Chloe's head bowed again. "It's all my fault." She sniffled. "Jack died because of me."

Jill sighed, wrapping her daughter up in an embrace. "Why do you think that, Chloe?"

"Mom…" Chloe shook her head. "I said no to him. I crushed him! And he died because of me!"

Jill rocked them, soothing her daughter as best she could. "Oh, honey. Jack's death wasn't your fault. You didn't influence him."

"Yes it is!" Chloe insisted. "I just as good as killed him! If I hadn't…" Chloe hiccupped. "All I know is that he wasn't thinking clearly when he went in, and it's my fault. That's why he's dead. He got himself killed because of _me_."

"Is that why you won't let yourself fall in love with Beca?" Jill implored her daugher, looking her in the eye. "Because you think you caused this?"

"There's a connection there," Chloe admitted. "It's different than the one I had with Jack."

"How so?"

Chloe's shoulder's lifted in a helpless shrug. "I don't know, Mom. I just feel…more. I can't explain it. But Beca makes me feel like…" She struggled to come up with an accurate comparison. "Like I'm holding onto a live wire with both hands. It's exciting and thrilling…but at the same time it's really, really scary."

"Chloe, you can't compare what you have with Beca to what you had with Jack," Jill advised her daughter. "It's incomparable."

"I know." Chloe shrugged. "I guess…I guess I know I'll never have what I had with Jack, and what I have with Beca's different, but I liked it. It was…special."

"So what's the problem?" Jill asked gently. "Why walk away from that?"

"I…I just _can't_, Mom," Chloe mumbled. "I don't deserve Beca's love. Not when I threw away Jack's."

* * *

_**Chloe could admit that it had taken awhile for her to warm up to Jack's chosen occupation. It was terrifying to think he was rushing headlong into raging fires. Even with all that protection…**_

_**But, she couldn't deny that his work made Jack happy. He seemed to have a new zeal for life, and he had really taken to firefighting. Every time he was called out, she still had that rush of fear, but she was used to it. At least a little bit.**_

_**Chloe stopped by the station to bring Jack lunch. As they finished off the simple offerings of sandwiches – turkey club for her, a BLT for him – Jack gazed at her, a fond glint in his eyes.**_

"_**You have mustard on your face."**_

_**Chloe frowned. "Where?"**_

_**Jack smirked, leaning in and kissing it off. "Got it."**_

_**She blushed, a hand to his stubbly cheek. "Cute, Spencer."**_

_**He grinned. "I'm not cute, Beale."**_

_**Chloe giggled. "Jack, sweetie. Just deal with the reality. You'll always be cute to me." She tugged at his t-shirt. "Especially in your uniform."**_

_**Jack's lopsided smile made an appearance. "Chicks dig the uniform, don't they?"**_

_**Chloe's eyes narrowed. "The only 'chick' you should be worrying about digging your uniform is this 'chick'," she growled, thrusting a thumb into her breastbone.**_

_**Jack's smile softened, his hand discreetly dropping to his pocket. "You're the only chick I'll ever want, Chloe." He took a hold of her hands, sliding off the bench and down on one knee.**_

"_**You're the only one I've ever wanted."**_

_**Chloe's eyes widened. She took in the expression on his face, lowered before her on a bent knee. She gasped, finally noticing the simple but gorgeous diamond ring in his hand, offered out to her.**_

"_**Marry me."**_

_** Chloe's hand drifted up to cover her mouth. "Jack…"**_

"_**Chloe," he returned. "I love you. Marry me."**_

_**Her eyes met his. "I…"**_

* * *

"Chloe, you have to let this go. You can't keep this guilt with you. You had no control over it."

"What if I don't want to let it go?" Chloe murmured sullenly. "What if I think this is, I dunno, _penance_ or something for saying no?"

* * *

_**"I…I can't." Chloe couldn't even look him in the eye. Her gaze was fixated on the diamond ring extended out to her. "Jack, we're so young. I'm not even out of high school!"**_

_** "It's simple, Chloe," he said, tone matter-of-fact. "I love you."**_

_** "Jack…" She loved him too, but the words were stuck in her throat, all she could say was, "We can't. I can't."**_

* * *

"Oh, baby girl…" Jill sighed, stroking Chloe's fiery hair. "It was a tragedy. A devastating tragedy; nothing more, nothing less. If you would have said yes, it wouldn't have changed things."

* * *

_**They were stuck in limbo. Chloe's eyes had finally drifted up to Jack's. She wasn't sure what she found swirling in the clear blue depths. His jaw was clenched, clearly holding back emotions. He had dropped her hand but had not risen from his kneel.**_

_** "Jack…" Chloe cupped his face. "Baby…I…I just…"**_

_** He sighed, rising to his feet. His shoulders were slumped and another hefty sigh wracked his body. When he looked up, she was devastated to find the tracks of tears skating their way over the curves and contours of his handsome face. He seemed to gather himself, and she braced for whatever came next. **_

_**Whatever he was going to say next was drowned out by the alarm blaring through the station. She could see Jack's captain rushing out, hollering at him as he shrugged on his suit.**_

"_**Spencer! Let's go!"**_

_**Jack sniffed, hastily wiping his eyes. In a matter of seconds he had steeled himself, shifting effortlessly into his firefighter persona. His eyes met hers as he backed away towards the firehouse. With one final furtive glance, he turned away, sprinting inside.**_

* * *

"Maybe it would have," Chloe insisted. "Maybe he would have been thinking clearly. Maybe he wouldn't have been acting so impulsively."

"You did the right thing," Jill answered. "You were so young. If Jack was thinking clearly, he would have realized that too."

"I guess we'll never know," Chloe mumbled sullenly.

* * *

_**From the moment they had gotten the urgent phone call from the hospital that there had been an incident involving Jack, Chloe was plunged into a whirlwind of white noise and abstract movement. It was though her consciousness had been taken from her body, and she was watching everything from a seat in a movie theatre.**_

_**But as she burst through the doors of the emergency room, it was like someone hand abruptly cranked the volume all the way up. Chloe became aware of many things at once.**_

_** The constant noise.**_

_** The flurry of movement around her.**_

_** The smell of sterilization.**_

_** And her mother.**_

_** Walking towards her.**_

_** With blood-stained scrubs.**_

_** And an unreadable expression on her face.**_

_** Carson spoke first. "Mom."**_

_** Chloe pushed forward, craning her neck as though Jack was behind her mother, that insolent grin on his face. Like it was all just a joke.**_

"_**Where's Jack?" Chloe looked at her mother. "Mommy, where's Jack?"**_

_** Jill's mouth opened then closed. She seemed to struggle for words. Chloe's eyes widened as Jill's eyes, eyes that mirrored her own, filled with tears. **_

"_**Honey, I'm so, so sorry…"**_

_**Whatever her else her mother said, Chloe didn't hear…or maybe she couldn't hear. She was thrust right back into the whirlwind of white noise and absract movement. It was like everything just simply…**_

…_**Shut down. **_

_**Chloe could only stare at her mother's scrubs. One thought flickered through her mind, stuck on repeat.**_

_**That was Jack's blood.**_

* * *

"No, we won't ever know, but you can't carry this guilt," Jill implored her daughter. "Like it or not, you're still alive and on this earth. Your life continues on, and you owe it to yourself to make your life as happy as you can."

xxx-xxx-xxx

_You took my heart and you held it in your mouth  
And with a word all my love came rushing out  
And every whisper, it's the worst,  
Emptied out by a single word  
There is a hollow in me now_

Beca was trying very hard to forget about Chloe Beale. She reclined back against the back of her seat, drink in her hand as the throaty melodies of Florence Welch mingled with the heady beats of Calvin Harris in their collaboration, "Sweet Nothing". She took a drink from the glass cradled between her fingers, reveling in the taste of the mixture. It was nothing fancy, just a simple rum and coke. Of course, the rum was from the highest reaches of the top shelf but the idea was there. Beca was well on her way to getting drunk, but at the current moment, she couldn't care.

Beca cast a glance around the club, down to the main floor where the general population mingled and writhed. A normal person would have found the flashing lights and pulsing music disconcerting in a moment of introspective contemplation, but Beca found it comforting. It wasn't often that she simply played spectator in clubs like this, but she was content to do so for the night. Even more shocking, she was alone for the moment, having shooed away the latest group of curiously-minded coeds looking to score with the notorious DJ Lady B. She had indulged them, playing up her celebrity persona, but none of them had caught her eye enough to serve as her entertainment for the night.

_So I put my faith in something unknown_  
_I'm living on such sweet nothing_  
_But I'm tired of hope with nothing to hold_  
_I'm living on such sweet nothing_

_And it's hard to learn_  
_And it's hard to love_  
_When you're giving me such sweet nothing_  
_Sweet nothing, sweet nothing_  
_You're giving me such sweet nothing_

Hmmm…fitting song. It seemed as though that was a common theme lately.

"What up, Mitchell?"

Beca glanced up as Scarlett sauntered towards her. She appreciated the sight. The Aussie held such a raw sensuality that was magnetic to the eye. Beca's eyes fixated on the casual sway of Scarlett's hips, accented by the lengthy, unhurried strides. Scarlett flopped down on the couch, unfolding her long legs to prop on the table, splaying her long limbs along the backrest.

Beca shrugged. "Nothing much." She gestured out towards the club. "Just enjoying the view."

Scarlett cocked an eyebrow, taking a sip of her drink. "See anything you like?"

Beca's head shook negligently from side to side. "Not particularly."

If at all possible, Scarlett's expression conveyed incredulity. "What? Babe Magnet Beca Mitchell isn't interested in the luscious ladies at her disposal?" Scarlett took another sip, vodka and cranberry juice from the looks of it. "I find that very hard to believe. This is the type of thing you _live_ for."

Beca smirked. Scarlett wasn't wrong. Still, she shrugged. "Not really looking for someone."

Scarlett nodded sagely. "Does this have anything to do with the redhead on your arm I've seen splashed on the cover of the tabloids lately? The one you so eloquently burned at the Grammy's?"

A corner of Beca's mouth twitched. "Perhaps."

"Didn't end well?"  
Beca's lips pursed, and she canted her head in irritation. She downed the rest of her drink in one gulp. A glance up and a raise of her glass was all she needed for another to appear. Beca took a hefty sip of that as well.

"You know, I thought I was gonna be the one to screw it up," Beca mused, her tone dry and sardonic. "I thought _I_ was gonna be the one doing the hurting." She snorted, swirling the dark liquid in her glass, watching it settle. "Shows how much I know about women and relationships."

"Relationships are shit," Scarlett declared staunchly.

Beca scoffed fondly. "Now I know you don't believe that. Otherwise you wouldn't subject yourself to Caroline for four years."

Scarlett snorted. "You wouldn't understand."

"Nope," Beca drawled. "I really wouldn't. Mostly because I don't understand you and Caroline."

Scarlett eyed her dubiously. "What do you mean?"

"Well, first of all, the fact that you actually work as a couple is beyond me," Beca remarked. "You're like polar opposites."

"You know what they say," Scarlett implored. "Opposites attract."

"Yeah," Beca conceded. "But that says nothing about opposites being able to operate in a functional relationship."

Scarlett snorted. "You know, that might be our problem." She took a long drink, lofting her hand for another. "Caroline and I…it's a very explosive sort of relationship. We love hard and fight even harder."

"So why continue like that?" Beca challenged. "Seems like a lot of unnecessary grief."

Scarlett dropped her eyes to her glass as though the blood red mixture of alcohol and juice held all the answers. "I love her," Scarlet answered after a very long pause. There was an inflection of the utmost honestly in her barely spoken words. "No matter what goes on between us, it seemed worth it to me."

"And now?" Beca asked, noting the use of the past tense.

Scarlett huffed, draining her own drink. "We all have a breaking point."

"So that's it?" Beca cocked an eyebrow. "After all that, you're just done with her?"

"I think I've been done with her for a while," Scarlett mused. "There comes a point where it's just not worth it anymore."

"So why keep going back?"

"Dude, dating scares the shit outta me," Scarlett admitted. "I'd almost rather go back to Caroline than brave the dating world again."

"What the hell?" Beca scoffed. "Like you'd really have that hard of a time snagging a date."

Scarlett's eyes widened incredulously. "C'mon, you don't get scared that the person's just with you because you're famous?"

"I think I'd be more scared if I was physically capable of getting someone pregnant," Beca deadpanned. "I _shudder_ to think of how many baby mamas I could have accumulated if I had reproductive capabilities. That's a lot of child support."

"Too right. But seriously?" Scarlett probed. "Aren't you concerned that these people are just with you because you're famous?"

"That's exactly why I usually deal with one-night stands," Beca corrected blithely. "There's no expectation behind it. They're not looking for a connection; they're looking to sleep with someone famous. And I'm looking to get laid." She held her hands out, lofting first one, then the other. "Win-win."

"And you're not afraid of it coming out in the tabloids?"

Beca brushed that off with a shrug. "Who cares?" she posed rhetorically. "Even if it comes out in the tabloids, what difference does it make? The people I sleep with get a thrill that they're famous for a day, and it doesn't ruin my reputation any worse. Besides, who really takes stock in tabloids? Those people constantly make up love connections on a daily basis."

"But does that really make you happy?"

Beca opened her mouth, the 'Yes' already on the tip of her tongue to expel out verbally. Something gave her pause, and she shut her mouth to reconsider. Did that really make her happy? Well, it certainly satisfied her on the most basic level.

But happy?

"Happy _enough_," she finally admitted. "The truth is, relationships scare the shit outta _me_. I've seen the extreme highs and the extreme lows and I don't know if I can handle either side."

"So what is all this sleeping around?" Scarlett inquired curiously.

Beca exhaled. "I guess I figured I'd go on like this until, I dunno, I found someone I felt was worth taking the plunge with."

Scarlett stared at her while Beca downed her drink, asking for another refill that disappeared just as quickly. She had a feeling there was more to the story than her fellow DJ was letting on.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Beca lofted her hand for another drink, nodding in thanks when one almost instantly appeared. She could feel herself spiraling down into the bowels of intoxication. Things were getting a little fuzzier. Words were becoming harder to form, and she knew the alcohol was loosening her lips. The back of her mind remarked this probably wasn't the most prudent of plans, but Beca forced that thought down into the depths.

She was a fuckin' genius. This was a motherfuckin' _fantastic_ plan.

And she was determined to execute it to perfection.

"Wanna know a secret?"

She was certain Scarlett was right there with her in the manner it took the Aussie to complete a head nod and the long pause before the affirmation came through verbally. "Sure."

"I was ready to be in a relationship," Beca admitted. "Thought Chlo was perfect."

Scarlett's head lolled towards the brunette, her eyes squinting against the dim light. "Who's Chlo?"

"Chlo-eee," Beca responded, drawing out the last syllable. "The ginger-haired demon who took a metaphorical sledgehammer to my poor, defenseless heart." Beca made a sound of explosion with the appropriate hand gesture. "Blew it up. _Booooom_."

Scarlett absorbed that for a moment. "Why?"

"Dunno," Beca answered, tipping back another drink. "I had some really awesome sex with her then she ignored me." Beca's face took on a mournful expression. "I got mad. Told her off."

"She why you're sad?"

Beca nodded. Her head felt heavy. Everything was fuzzy. "I said some really mean things, but I got so pissed off. Wanted her to hurt as bad as I did."

"Fuck it," Scarlett stated emphatically. "Just forget about her."

That seemed easy. But it wasn't. "I can't," Beca groaned. "I wanted her to be my girlfriend. I love her."

"So say you're sorry," Scarlett offered in return.

Beca shook her head. "I hate her right now. I want her to feel bad a little longer."

Scarlett frowned. Beca could tell she was trying to sort it all out in her mind. Finally the platinum-haired Aussie just threw back her drink. "This is complicated."

Beca snorted. "You're telling me." She sighed, tipping back her drink. "I wanna forget about her…at least for tonight." Beca's head lolled back against the seat. "Tomorrow, I can keep thinking about her all the time even when I don't want to."

Scarlett nodded somberly. "I get it. I think I'm the same way."

Beca tilted her head. "Yeah?"

"Uh-huh." Scarlett breathed deeply in then out, a slow, leaking sort of sigh. "I want to walk away from Caroline and forget all about her, but I can't. She's always here." Scarlett tapped her breastbone, right above her heart.

"I wish I could just cut her out."

"You gonna go back to her?"

Scarlett nodded. "Probably."

"Don't you want to not hurt anymore?"

Scarlett nodded again. "Yeah."

Beca's brows drew together. In her intoxicated state, Scarlett didn't really make sense. But she supposed even if she was sober, the reasoning would probably escape her too.

"So why?"

Scarlett tilted her head. "You know, I don't know."

"You don't have to," Beca offered.

Scarlett's eyes widened as though the thought had just occurred to her for the first time. She could choose _not_ to go back to Caroline.

"I don't…"

Scarlett's mouth dropped open. "I won't." She sounded as though it was the epiphany of a lifetime. She pumped a fist in the air. "Dammit, I will not go back to Caroline McKnight. I am going to be happy!"

Beca cheered her support, lofting her glass.

Scarlett tilted hers towards Beca, and they toasted. As they calmed down, Scarlett glanced towards Beca.

"What about you?" she asked. "What are you gonna do?"

Beca sighed. That was the question, wasn't it?

xxx-xxx-xxx

Chloe was still unused to the quiet of the house. Still, she appreciated the tranquility as she tried to concentrate on the homework and assignments due after break. So, she couldn't help but glance up in confusion as the front door opened and closed, and a voice sounded through the house.

"Hello! Anyone home!"

Chloe shot up in surprise as the youngest Beale male made his way through the house, looking in the rooms. "Carson!"

His face lit up. "Chlo!"

She looked her brother up and down. Europe had done him well. The sun had brought out the shades of red in his hair, and the freckles dotting his nose and cheeks were more pronounced.

"What up, Squirt?" He wrapped his arms around his sister in a hug. "What're you doing home?" He craned his head towards the kitchen. "Is there anything to eat in this joint?"

"Spring Break," Chloe reminded him. She followed him as he moseyed to the fridge, sitting back down at the island while he rooted around for food. His eyes landed on a Tupperware container filled with pasta, and he grabbed it and a bottle of water, tossing the pasta into the microwave.

"Spring Break," he mused, sliding down across from her as his food warmed. His face relaxed into a grin, his eyes sparkling. Chloe had always thought out of all her brothers, Carson had the prettiest eyes – followed closely by Cam. Carson's eyes were like an interesting mix of her parents' eye colors: the pure blue of her father's mingled with the shades of green in her mother's. What made them the best, though, was the way they always seemed to twinkle with mirth and mischief. Carson had always been such a happy-go-lucky guy. It was what made it so peculiar his best friend was such a gruff, prickly character.

Carson's expression had taken on a nostalgic appearance as he took a sip of water. "Man, Spring Break was always fun. Cancun, senior year with the guys was the probably best week ever." Carson rose as the microwave beeped, extracting the Tupperware and shoveling food into his mouth. He pointed his fork at her. "Speaking of, why aren't _you_ in some place exotic? I would've thought Beca would whisk you away to, like, the Caribbean or something."

Chloe's face fell, and she glanced away. "We didn't work out."

Carson cocked his head. "Really? I never would have guessed that. What happened?"

Chloe fiddled with her pencil, tapping it on one of her many textbooks. "It got complicated."

"Okay…" Carson drawled, eyeing his sister shrewdly. "What kind of complicated? Are we talking 'two-timing skeeze' complicated or 'tortured past' complicated?"

Chloe sighed, gesturing vaguely with her hand. "The latter."

"Ah." Carson nodded knowingly. "You got tweaky."

Chloe's nose wrinkled at her brother's terminology. "I got scared," she corrected.

"Why?"

Chloe sighed. "I started feeling too much," she explained. "It wasn't supposed to be serious, but before I knew it, it was serious." Chloe fiddled with a page in her notebook, doodling absently. "She told me she loved me."

Carson shrugged, forking pasta into his mouth. "It makes sense why you'd be scared," he offered after a swig of water. "I mean, I guess I see why."

Chloe's brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Carson shrugged again, swallowing his mouthful of food. "Dunno," he mumbled. "I mean, you guys just had good vibes. Like, weirdly more than you and Jack did. So it would make sense that there would be a crazy amount of feelings there, but when someone says they love you before you're ready, it's kind of a heart-stopping moment. Like you're in a car thinking you're cruising, then you look down at the speedometer and you're pushing ninety. I mean, that's the way Jack lived: pedal to the metal, damn the consequences." Carson grinned. "Well, until he got serious about you, that is." He frowned as a thought struck him, eyes snapping up to meet his sister's gaze. "Wait, are you still hung up on Jack? Is that what this weird commitment-phobic shtick you got going on is all about?"

Chloe tensed, her eyes drifting away. "No…" She reconsidered. "Well, not really…"

Carson shook his head. "Chlo, don't you think it's time you moved on?"

"He was your best friend, Carson!" Chloe's eyes flashed dangerously. "I would think you'd be a little more broken up about his death, that you'd understand."

"I do!" Carson defended. He sighed, putting down his fork. "You know, for a very long time I was a mess," he admitted. "I think I spent my entire spring semester sophomore year perpetually high." He huffed out a chuckle, eyes lofting skyward, shoulders slumping.

"Nothing could hurt me when I was stoned. I was awesomely numb to the world, and I liked it."

Chloe softened, and she nodded. "Yeah, I know." She thought back to some of the stuff Carson had gotten into during his mourning period. "I mean, that wasn't so bad. It was the other stuff that got everyone worried." She cocked her head. "The 1.7 GPA was a bit alarming though."

Carson nodded, huffing out a deep breath. "Man, I could have really messed a lot of things up. I was lucky I passed that semester."

"_Barely_," Chloe remarked.

"Summer school saved my ass," Carson agreed. "I mean with the stuff I got into while I was high, I was lucky I wasn't killed or worse…_arrested_."

Chloe nodded with a rueful smile. "Dad would have left you rotting in that cell for as long as was legal." She fiddled with the ring on her thumb. "I remember him read you the riot act more than once."

"'I know you're hurting, son; we all are. I love you, but if you don't get your shit together, you're out on your ass'," Carson recited, mimicking their father's gruff voice. He smirked. "Man, I've never seen Dad so heated."

"Gave you a wake-up call," Chloe offered.

He stabbed his fork into his pasta, not really with the intention to spear a bite, more to give his hands something to do. "Yeah, it did. It's why I figured I had to do Europe for a while."

"But you're back now," Chloe mused.

Carson sighed. "Yeah. As fun as it was, I gotta be a grown up. I gotta face the real world. I sent in applications to law school while I was over there."

"And?"

Carson grinned. "You're looking at the latest entry into Boston University's law school."

"You'll be near Aubrey," Chloe remarked. "She'll be down at Fordham next year."

Carson smiled. "Awesome." His smile faltered for a moment. "When I got the notification, the first person I thought of was Jack."

Chloe smiled. "He used to joke he'd need you to bail him out of jail or something."

Carson's smile wavered. "Yeah. He was so sure he would find himself in the pen one way or another when we were kids." Carson braced his arms against the surface of the island, lacing his fingers together. His posture was hunched, almost defeated, burdened by the weight of the memories.

"Jack was more than my best friend. He was a Beale; he was my brother." Carson ran a hand through his hair. "I'll always feel the absence of him in our lives. There are times where something will happen, and I'll want to tell Jack because it's the kind of thing only he would appreciate…but then I'll remember he's not there."

Chloe nodded. A corner of Carson's mouth quirked upward, and he shrugged, the gesture heavy with melancholy.

"But for as much as I miss him, there's no point in wallowing in the fact that he's not around. He's not coming back." He leveled a heavy gaze in her direction. "You know that, right? You know he's never coming back."

Chloe sighed. "It's not that. It's what happened _before_ he died." Her head ducked down, her hair falling like a curtain around her face. "When he proposed, all I could think about was that we were way too young for that. I didn't think what was going on in his head."

Carson's brows drew together as he scrutinized Chloe. "Did you know he told me he was going to propose to you?"

"I figured he did." Chloe knew that nothing happened in their lives without the other knowing about it. It would be only natural Jack would tell Carson about such a huge thing like a prospective proposal.

Carson nodded. "I told him he was insane."

"What did he say to that?"

"Oh, he agreed with me," Carson remarked. "_Jack_ thought he was insane for even buying the ring. He said you were probably going to say no."

That was news to Chloe. "So why did he even ask me?"

Carson shrugged. "He figured he had to take the chance. He said if there was even the slightest, tiniest chance you would say yes, he thought it was worth it. If not, he knew he could always ask you again when you guys were older."

The weight of that news hit Chloe like a bullet to the heart. Her eyes sought out her brother's. "Why didn't you ever tell me this?"

"I didn't think it was relevant," Carson explained. "It's not like you were going to break up with him for asking. I knew you had thoughts in your head of marrying the guy when you were like twelve. What's a couple more years?"

Her breath started to come in short gasps, and she looked completely stricken. "Carson, I spent _all this time_ feeling guilty over saying no!" Chloe cried. "I thought I had completely broken his heart. I thought I was the reason for him being so reckless the day he died! _I thought I killed him_."

"Aw, shit, Chlo…" Carson wrapped his sister up in an embrace. "No, of course you didn't! Jack figured he would ask, and if you said no, he was going to wait until you graduated college. His world wasn't going to implode!" Carson drew back, cupping his sister's face and wiping the tears with his thumbs.

"Chlo, Jack _loved_ you. He couldn't wait to marry you, but he figured he had to, and he was alright with that. You didn't do anything but tell him something he already knew." Carson pressed a kiss to Chloe's forehead. "He just got a little eager. You can't really blame him for that."

"So all this time…?"

"I didn't know you felt like this," Carson admitted. "I would have told you, but you never wanted to talk about it. It was like you wanted to forget about him. You always changed the subject whenever I tried."

Chloe sighed, burying her face in Carson's chest. "It hurt," she murmured. "I thought I was the reason he died."

"Aw, Chloe…" Carson wrapped his arms tight around her. "You were always his reason for living."

xxx-xxx-xxx

As Carson retreated up the stairs to wash off the smell of airplane from his body, Chloe ran out to the backyard. With sure feet, she scaled up to the treehouse where she laid down against the wood flooring. A hefty sigh burst forth from her lungs as she relaxed her body into a haphazard sprawl, her eyes drifting naturally up to the meticulously crafted ceiling. Her eyes traced along the wood boards, and the thoughts bounced around in her head, and she wasn't sure which emotion was the singular one threatening to overwhelm her. Too many of them battled one another for supremacy.

There was guilt.

There was anger.

There was sadness.

There was confusion.

There were others she couldn't identify but she could feel.

For so long, she thought her actions had been the driving force behind Jack's death. That her rejection of his proposal had clouded his judgment that fateful day and caused his reckless behavior that ultimately led to his death. She had functioned in that capacity for so long, eschewing her happiness out of sheer guilt. After all, why should she be happy when she had ruined Jack's happiness? It didn't seem fair. But now, with this new revelation, _everything_ changed.

Her mind drifted to Beca. Beca had been the unfortunate recipient of her guilt overwhelming her and that concrete philosophy that believed she was to blame for Jack's death. Truth be told, Beca scared her the most. In their short time together, Chloe had experienced so much both emotionally and physically. It was a mixture of things: affection, tenderness, exhilaration, joy, fear, desire…

All those feelings combined threatened to crumble the steel-like resolve she had cultivated since Jack's death. The walls around her heart had been stone hard as bulletproof glass. But even Chloe should have known that hit enough times with enough force, bulletproof glass was still able to shatter.

The way Beca attacked Chloe was in a way that the redhead had never experienced before. Beca didn't shower her with aggressive affection or trite compliments. It wasn't an all-out assault, bombarding her romantic sensibilities with alleged charm and charisma. Rather, it was covert stealth mission, systematically breeching defenses until she was cornered and forced to surrender. It started with Beca appealing to the most sacred of Chloe's passions. Music was something Chloe revered, and Beca's expertise made her undeniably alluring. Knowing that at any given point in the day, Beca's mind could be effortlessly crafting a track that had a high probability of landing on the Billboard 100 was so undeniably sexy. As she got to know the slightly surly DJ, the things that appealed to her about Beca seemed to shift. It became the little things, the intricate little nuances in Beca's personality that subtly conveyed both Beca's complexity and her unobtrusive manner of expressing emotion. The tenderness in the DJ's touch, the smiles that were a little different than the half-smirks Beca often shot out to everyone else, the way Beca yielded to Chloe's prodding, all of it was there but so understated to the naked eye.

At the time, Chloe had taken those little things for granted, chalking it up to her natural persuasive nature and indelible charm. In Chloe's mind, her charisma had persuaded Beca to just give in. In hindsight, her playfully reluctant acquiescence was more than just a product of Chloe's charm. It was Beca's way of conveying her love, the love the DJ had only recently worked up the courage to verbalize and only in the dead of night when she thought Chloe was asleep.

Chloe thought of the ramifications of her actions. She knew Beca wasn't keen on relationships. The DJ had stated that many times before, and Chloe had certainly known about the string of one-night stands that constantly appeared on the gossip blogs and trashy tabloids. Despite Beca's trepidations, she had steeled herself, pushing aside her fears and past history about commitment. Beca had made the conscious decision to give her heart away, and she had taken the plunge, choosing Chloe as the first recipient of Beca Mitchell's love.

Chloe had everything at her fingertips. She had procured the affection of one of the most intriguing, most beautiful people she had ever come across. Beca Mitchell was truly a force of nature, completely out-of-this-world but grounded to Earth at the same time, a gorgeous juxtaposition.

And in one moment of fear, of guilt, of complete and utter stupidity she had thrown that away in the most callous and shameful manner.

It truly seemed as though history was meant to repeat itself.

She wouldn't blame Beca if the DJ never talked to her again, if Beca never forgave her for the heartless treatment suffered at Chloe's hands, even if it was born out of a place of fear.

But at the same time, Chloe desperately wanted to make it right. She recalled Beca's words.

_**"Well, I never asked to fall for you, yet it happened, and it looks like it was the biggest mistake I could ever make thinking someone like me could ever be loved by someone like you."**_

Someone like her.

Chloe scoffed. The ironic thing was Chloe would never wish someone like her on anyone. Could Beca do better? Most definitely. The parade of women in and out of the DJ's life were testament to that. But Beca had said she would win hands down in comparison to those other women.

She, Chloe Abigail Beale, was better than people like Paige Daniels, than Victoria's Secret Angels, than foreign DJs.

She didn't feel all that great now.

Chloe spread her arms out, face turned up towards the ceiling.

And she cried.

She cried for Jack.

She cried for Beca.

Mostly, she cried for herself.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Mornings sucked the day after one had imbibed way too much alcohol. That was a certainty…and Beca certainly felt it.

In her head.

Her _throbbing_ head.

That felt as heavy as a watermelon.

And pulsed with more intensity than one of her tracks.

But there was another throbbing, just as familiar and slightly more pleasant than the one associated with alcohol. In fact, it was one associated with…

Oh…fuck…

Literally.

Beca cast a gaze askance; she was very much fearful to what would fill that sideways glance. She relaxed when there was a familiar head of tousled hair on the other pillow. Still, there was a sinking feeling in her stomach. It was still the wrong head of hair, the wrong color, the wrong length.

It was just wrong.

The eyelids fluttered open, and the eyes were the wrong shade. Not a vivid, vibrant blue but a pale, pale gray blue.

She recalled a lot of alcohol and the strands of an Enrique Iglesias song inducing and provoking her impaired mindset to something that was pure impulse and selfish desire.

_You know my motivation  
Given my reputation  
Please excuse me I don't mean to be rude_

_But tonight I'm fucking you_

Well…apparently mission accomplished.

Aces, Mitchell…

"Fuck." Beca slapped her palms over her face. "We fucked."

"Brilliant," Scarlett drawled, her voice muffled by the pillow and covers. "Absolutely _brilliant_ deduction, Sherlock. Mensa level that was."

Beca slumped back against the mattress, wishing she could just disappear into it. Her hands slid back up to her face, and flashes of the previous night flickered behind her eyelids like one of those old View-Master toys that switched pictures when you pushed down on the lever.

_**The slide of bare skin. **_

_**The pressure of fingertips clenching in hair.**_

_**Lips wandering.**_

_**The scrape of fingernails down the slope of shoulder blades.**_

_**Back arching as a particularly sensitive spot was hit. **_

_**Breathy whispers and whimpered moans.**_

Beca sighed. "That didn't help, did it?"

Scarlett mirrored Beca's defeated posture. It had nothing to do with one another; it had everything to do with the women they loved and had attempted to forget for the night. Every thought and sentiment that ran through Beca's head was also running through Scarlett's. The Aussie shook her head. "Nope."

Beca's head rose infinitesimally then plopped back onto the pillow. She didn't expect the overwhelming wave of guilt to crash into her consciousness. Even with her desire to forget about Chloe and the even more childish, juvenile desire to make Chloe hurt as much as she did, the pang in her heart still resonated.

She was unused to waking up with regrets, especially when her bed was occupied with a nameless face – or, in more generous cases, a face with only a first name attached. Even when there was some modicum of familiarity, like with casual acquaintances, there wasn't any remorse associated, no fear of whatever relationship designation eroding. She had often been very transparent towards her intentions, and the partners she chose to share her bed with always knew where they stood.

Never before had Beca had someone else hovering over her shoulder during one of those trysts. The best part was that there _weren't _any strings. There _wasn't_ anyone else.

But now, even as she labored so ardently to believe otherwise, there was Chloe.

These days, there was always Chloe.

"Look," she began, looking over to Scarlett. "That was hot and all, but…uh, I didn't feel anything."

"No, same," Scarlett assured her. The Aussie looked just as uncomfortable.

"Good." Beca wrinkled her nose. "This isn't gonna get weird, is it?"

"Not on my end." Scarlett smirked.

Beca considered it for a second. "I'm good too, actually." She smirked as well. "You know, in another world, you'd be perfect for me."

"You're kidding me, right? I'm too much for you, Mitchell."

The two lay side-by-side, completely naked under the covers but not uncomfortable in their positions.

"What are you gonna do now?"

Scarlett skated a hand down her face, scrubbing lightly. "I guess I brave the dating pool. What about you?"

Beca sighed. "Fuck if I know."

xxx-xxx-xxx

Back in Atlanta, a despondent Aubrey Posen sighed to herself as she entered her home. Her father was away on a business trip, so she had the house to herself for the remainder of break. She preferred it that way. For as much as she loved the man and desperately sought his approval, he was such an overbearing presence on her life. She was not looking forward to explaining their loss in Semis. She wasn't sure she could bear the look of disappointment on his face – if he even showed emotion…

Aubrey looked to the mantle. Propped on the surface were chronicles of a better time, a happier time. A young Aubrey Posen lay propped between a beautiful blonde woman and a smiling, handsome man. The man was curled against the woman, one arm around her shoulders. His hazel eyes sparkling with life and mirth, the deep dimples in his cheeks made deeper by the wide smile adorning his face. His hair was still dark, gray streaked through the strands; it wasn't the stark white she associated so heavily with her father's image.

Aubrey ran her fingers over the picture, her mother's face forever ensconced in memory. She was so beautiful, like something out of old Hollywood, a Lauren Bacall or a Vivian Leigh. Her mother carried herself like the socialite she was, all graceful charm and impeccable carriage.

Leland Jethro Posen came from a blue-collar family. He wasn't born to privilege, he was born to the type of man who built cities like Pittsburgh from the ground up. Leland had to work to earn the successful he would eventually achieve, his dogged determination giving him his pick of universities to attend.

By contrast, Annette Beauchamp was a Southern Belle from South Carolina. She came from old money, her family fortune traced back to the pre-Revolutionary days, surviving through the Great Depression and multiple global wars. She never wanted for anything, the baby in a long line of elder siblings, but she strove for greater than just what was given to her through her family name. Annette defied the conventions of her family, eschewing the strong suggestion to marry the son of one of her father's business partners. Instead, she made her way west.

They met at Notre Dame. He was studying for his BBA in Management, she was an Art History major. Annette had the gall to fall in love with a Yankee. As fate would have it, their respective postgraduate studies took them both to Duke, him to the Fuqua School of Business and her to her Master's and internship at the Nasher Museum of Art.

Aubrey smiled as she looked at her parents' wedding photo. LJ and Annie, the young couple who was ridiculously in love. They had settled in the state that had brought them together, and little Aubrey had been born in Gary, Indiana two years after her parents had married. By that time, Leland had found success in his chosen field, and moved the family to Indianapolis a few weeks after to be closer to Leland's office in the city.

Aubrey could remember the happier times. There were many of them. She remembered her mother's tinkling laugh, her father's warm, strong embrace. When she was a child, her father was always so silly. He would crack a joke, make her laugh, then look up to her mother with a 'Look what I did' sort of pride. For her part, her mom would always indulge him, even if Annette was certain Leland was making a fool out of himself.

"_**Annie! Annie! ANNIE!"**_

_**Annette rushed into the living room, clearly startled by Leland's insistent bellow that resonate through the house. "What? Jesus, Lord Almighty, what the hell is it, LJ?"**_

_**Leland waved his wife over, the video camera firmly focused on little Aubrey. Not even sparing his wife a glance for fear he might miss something, Leland pointed to their daughter. "She's standing! She's gonna walk!"**_

_**Annette's face twisted in amusement, her tone firmly echoing her deadpan expression. "LJ, honey, she's holding onto the table leg…She's been doing that for a while."**_

"_**No way," LJ refuted, eyes still fixated on Aubrey resolutely clinging to the table leg and rocking on unstable legs. "Look, Annie, she's ahead of the curve! I'm telling you, our daughter's gonna be a genius!"**_

_**Annette sighed, running an affectionate hand through Leland's hair. "LJ, I love you, but I really do hate to break it to you…for as amazing as our daughter is, she is no child prodigy. Her development is right on track for someone her age." Leaning down to press a kiss to his hair, she returned back to the kitchen.**_

"_**Don't listen to her," LJ implored her daughter, scooping her up in his arms and raining kisses to her chubby cheeks. He delighted in Aubrey's giggles.**_

"_**You're nothing less than perfection just the way you are."**_

He was always so proud of her. Not just because she was his daughter, but because she was a product of him and Annette. A perfect little being made from love, forever tangible evidence of what he and Annette shared.

Maybe that's why when her mother died, things changed.

Now, when he looked at her – _if_ he ever looked at her – it was always with such a faraway glint in his hazel eyes. Like he was looking, but he wasn't _seeing_ her. It was as though he was seeing someone else.

She was sure he was.

Leland's father, Joseph Jethro Posen, was a military man, a veteran of the Army who had seen and survived too much during a time of turmoil. When Leland was a child, Joe Posen integrated his strict military principles to his son, often with slightly strange military-isms to reinforce the strict atmosphere of discipline he established in the Posen household. Discipline was paramount to success, Joe often barked. And failure was not tolerated. Because as Joe Posen had experienced, in a war, failure sometimes meant death.

So when the spark in his life was extinguished so suddenly, Leland shut down, regressing back to the only things he knew: the principles of Joseph Jethro Posen. Driving home from work, Annette was struck by a drunk driver and killed. And just like that Daddy was Daddy no longer. He was 'sir.'

Leland threw himself into work, and he found even more success. But the more successful he became, the less time he spent with Aubrey. His firm offered him a top position in the regional office in Atlanta, higher pay, more responsibilities. He jumped on it. Anything to take them away from all the memories. By then, he wasn't LJ. He was Leland J. Posen. And he expected nothing less than perfection.

_**Aubrey poked her head in her father's study. It was a weekend, but he was still working. He had brought his files home to work on, and the moment he had set foot in the house, he had holed himself behind his desk. As usual, he was surrounded by piles of paper filled with graphs and numbers reports and analyses, his torso barely visible amidst the clutter, his reading glasses perched on his nose. In one hand, he clutched the cordless phone, the other hand scrawling notes on the notepad in front of him. She hesitantly knocked on the doorframe, eclipsing the threshold when he waved her in.**_

_**Leland ended the call and leveled a steady, unwavering gaze to his daughter, a stare not unlike the one would pierce through obstinate clients. He held out his hand in anticipation for Aubrey's report card.**_

_**She bit her lip, hesitatingly handing it over.**_

_**Leland's eyes scanned over the marks, and Aubrey braced herself. She knew exactly what he would see: All As except for one A-minus. Sure enough, his mouth turned down, and he plucked a pen from his breast pocket. Signing the appropriate line that acknowledged he had seen her grades, Leland folded the card back up and looked to his daughter.**_

_**Leland's jaw set, and he shook his head.**_

"_**Inadequate, Aubrey. You can do better." His eyes leveled to hers. "I expect better."**_

_**Aubrey fought the urge to crumble as her eyes drifted down to her shoes. She nodded. "Yes, sir," she mumbled.**_

That was a common instance, one that often molded to the various activities Aubrey participated in: volleyball and track, debate, student government. Nothing was good enough. To say that Aubrey was unaffected by it all would be a lie. She missed Daddy. She missed the hugs, the silly jokes, the glowing pride he would have in the little things like smiling, like mispronouncing a new word. It seemed as though nothing was good enough.

Maybe if she won Nationals, he would notice. Maybe if he saw how successful she could be, he would _care_.

Aubrey was grateful for how her father taught her to be strong and independent, how to handle adversity with a staunch fortitude and a strong chin. And she did believe he loved her very, very much. But still…Aubrey supposed it went back to the most basic of desires in a young girl's life. She just wanted her Daddy back.

xxx-xxx-xxx

It was funny how she always ended up by Barden, Aubrey mused. Bored and stuck in her house, she traveled the short distance to campus where she found her favorite café. Aubrey reclined back against the semi-comfortable chair, a novel in her hands. She took a sip of her mocha, turning the page. The bright sun warmed her as she relaxed with the tranquil atmosphere.

"Well, well, well, look who found Treble…"

And just like that, said tranquil atmosphere was shattered, and Aubrey's eyes closed in chagrin as the familiar, taunting voice wafted into her ear. She didn't look up as Bumper plopped down in the chair beside her, his normal shit-eating grin adorning his stupid face.

"What do you want, Leslie?"

Bumper's eyes widened as his given name fell from Aubrey's lips. For once, Aubrey actually experienced him speechless and struck dumb. It was the little victories.

Bumper's mouth opened and closed as he fought for a response. He finally settled on the most basic of comebacks, spluttering out a, "What the aca-fuck?" He recoiled back for a second, nose wrinkling in distaste.

"I just aca-ed something. I can't believe I just did that. I've never done that before." He thrust a finger forward in consternation. "You made me 'aca' something!"  
Aubrey rolled her eyes, her gaze still focused on her book. She ignored his tirade, answering the unvoiced inquiry. "You really don't pay attention in school, do you? I've TA'd your Intro to Criminal Justice class. You know, the one you've failed and retaken twice?"

Bumper shook his head, a clear sign of his lack of knowledge. "So?!"

Aubrey sighed, succumbing to the inevitability of this extended exposure to Bumper Allen, actually named Leslie Clarence Allen…she never had known where 'Bumper' came from. Aubrey marked her spot and closed her book, looking up at the Treblemaker captain. "You really don't think 'Bumper' appears on the class roster, do you?"

Bumper scowled. "Look, it's a family name, alright? I'd change it, but…" he dropped his head, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like, "My mom won't let me…"

Aubrey rolled her eyes again, her gaze scrutinizing and her expression clearly conveying just how much disdain she had for the odious cretin. He wasn't supposed to be here. He had been bragging up, down, and sideways about some Spring Break party he had been invited to. It was, _apparently_ a big deal. She had her doubts.

"Aren't you supposed to be in some 'bitchin' Spring Break den of debauchery' down in Daytona or something?"

Bumper waved a hand with that scrunched up expression of dismissal she saw so often on his face – most of the time directed to her or Jesse's roommate Benji – and snorted. "Canned it when I found out no one famous was gonna be there. Apparently anyone who's anyone is down in Cabo."

"And you're not enough of anyone to make the list, huh?" Aubrey taunted him.

"Oh, I so could make the list if I wanted," Bumper denied with another vehement shake of his head. "I can make all sorts of lists. Because I'm awesome. And handsome. Both of which are lists that you wouldn't even be considered for…unless a qualification is if you can projectile vomit an impressive length…or if you can screw up your chances at Nationals without even trying…or if–"

"Okay!" Aubrey halted his narcissistic tirade with a slash of her hands and a fake smile. "I really hate to break up this pontification of your many redeeming characteristics in your obviously delusional mind, but I can't afford to lose any more brain cells, so unless you wanted something, I'm going to leave and try and salvage the five minutes I've just wasted on you."

"Oh, yeah, there totally was something!" Bumper's face widened into a grin that immediately had Aubrey's eyes narrowing with suspicion.

"What?"

"Just wanted to thank you!" he drawled brightly. "I was hoping," he clapped his hands together, lofting them skyward in faux reverence, "_praying_ that you would find a way to top last year and nuke your chances at Nationals in an even more spectacular fashion. But you did it in such a way that's even better than I could have ever imagined."

Aubrey bristled, arms crossed defiantly over her chest. "What are you talking about?"

Bumper's eyebrow inched skyward. "What, you didn't know?" He considered his point, answering his own question. "Wait, what the hell am I saying, of course you didn't know. You're that entrenched in the eighties that you really have no idea." He stopped, face arranged in a deadpan expression.

"But seriously. _You didn't know_?!"

Aubrey was rapidly losing patience with the moron. "Bumper, use the minimal command of the English language you have and communicate in ways normal, functional humans would understand."

"Dude, you have like the best resource of all resources right in your back pocket. You had your key to winning the whole thing on your team and you let her chill in the wings doing absolutely _nothing_."

Aubrey shook her head, clearly not understanding where he was going with his tirade. "What?"

"Beca," Bumper answered. "You have _Beca Mitchell_. If you were _smart_, you could have at least picked her brain on making your boring, estrogen-filled sets a little less boring and estrogen-filled, but I guess I gave you too much credit."

Aubrey was still nonplussed. "Wait, what does Beca have to do with anything?"

Bumper shook his head, a malicious smile on his face. "Just when I thought you couldn't get dumber." He contemplated her for a long moment. "Look, I'm gonna do something I never, _ever_ thought I would do: I'm gonna throw you a big, meaty bone. I don't know why I'm doing it; maybe I'm just feeling charitable or this crazy, overwhelming need to sneeze is, like, short-circuiting my brain cells or whatever." He leaned back, crossing one leg over the other, his hands braced behind his head. "Do yourself a favor and watch the Grammys broadcast that I know your ginger roomie DVR'd or some shit." He grinned in a way that had Aubrey's Spidey Sense tingling. "I promise you it'll be enlightening…or sickening. Probably sickening."

With that, Bumper slapped the table, untangling himself from his position and standing. "Well, I'm off to entertain a few adoring fans I have stalking me during break. Sucks that you won't be in New York to see us repeat," he remarked over his shoulder as he strutted away. "I'll be sure to mention you as one of the people I stepped on to get to the top and thank you for being so frighteningly obtuse."

Aubrey could only stare after him.

xxx-xxx-xxx

It was a good twenty minutes before her brain rebooted. She honestly wasn't sure how to take the news Bumper had just imparted on her. A greater part of her scoffed at the idea Beca was someone important in the music world, certainly not to the level where she was invited to the biggest award show for music accomplishment. Still, a small part of her couldn't help but take stock in Bumper's words…as little weight they had.

Mind made up, Aubrey headed to her apartment, entering with her key. She grabbed the remote lying on the couch and turned on the television, scrolling through Chloe's recorded shows. Clicking on the Grammy broadcast, she fast-forwarded through the endless parade of useless awards at the lowest setting, eyes searching the screen for the familiar form. Aubrey stopped as a tiny figure ascended to the stage, the heavily-lined eyes very, very much recognizable. Her mouth dropped open as she pressed play and Beca-freakin'-Mitchell serenaded at her from the television screen.

Eyes on Beca's performance, Aubrey groped for Chloe's laptop in its normal place on the coffee table. Pulling up the web browser, Aubrey typed in the name to her search engine. To her chagrin, her query came back with a Wikipedia page as the first link, and Aubrey clicked on it.

Her gaze went to the picture in the upper left hand corner, where a very familiar half-smirk greeted her. Aubrey took the scantest of moments revel in her disbelief before she looked down to the introductory blurb on top of the table of contents.

**Rebeca Kay "Beca" Mitchell** _(born November 5, 1988), better known by her stage name_ **DJ Lady B**, _is an American electronic musician, producer, and DJ. Born in Portland, Oregon and raised in Brooklyn, New York, Mitchell emerged on the scene in 2008 to great success._

_Originally a DJ at nightclubs, Mitchell signed with Columbia Records and released her first album in 2008. Albums in 2009 and 2011 followed to multiple Grammy nominations and wins. Mitchell's 2012 was spent collaborating with many different artists. Several of those records reached the top five in the United States and other countries, some achieving RIAA certification._

_Currently, Beca Mitchell has sold over five million albums and fifteen million singles worldwide. In 2011, Mitchell was voted as the #2 DJ in the 'DJ Mag Top 100 DJs' fan poll._

Aubrey read over the page several times, absorbing the information included in each of the subsections: Beca's discography page noted several Grammy awards, her biography chronicled the work she had done since emerging on the scene. Some of her collaborations were with some of the most notorious names in music: Madonna, Prince, and even Queen, all three Aubrey knew were in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

Aubrey put Chloe's computer down, leaning back against the couch, her eyes unseeing up to the ceiling. The thoughts bounced around inside of her head, and she cursed Bumper for being right about something. Still, she had to hear it from a more reputable source. Reaching for her phone, Aubrey dialed the first number on her speed dial. Chloe answered after a few rings.

"Hey, Bree." Chloe's voice sounded tired.

Aubrey cut straight to the chase. "Did you know?"

There was a pause. "Aca-scuse me?"

"About Beca," Aubrey edified. "Did you know about Beca?"

This pause was longer before Chloe sighed. "Yes."

Aubrey digested that for a moment. "How famous, Chloe?"

"Very." Another sigh. "We spent New Years' with Cade Lowell at his new club. She met with Dr. Dre for a new line of headphones she's endorsing." Chloe's voice grew small. "I was in the tabloids."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"What was I supposed to say?" Chloe retorted. "You didn't want to know! The signs were all there, Bree. You just chose not to see them!"

"What was there to see?" Aubrey spluttered.

"Really, Bree?" Chloe deadpanned. "You didn't think it was a little fishy that Beca had enough money to rent the most premiere apartment on campus just on her own when we've never seen her do anything remotely related to a steady job? You didn't look at Beca's studio and think, 'Hmmm, this is a little high-end for your normal college freshman'? You didn't notice that she was extremely hard to get a hold of every weekend or during the evenings? Or that she would take random trips to Los Angeles every so often?" A huff sounded over the phone. "Aubrey! She had her own _driver_, for crying out loud!"

"I…" Aubrey was struck with a stark thought. "I guess I didn't notice."

"No, you didn't," Chloe affirmed. "Because you wouldn't see her beyond that girl who insulted you at the beginning of the year. That's your problem, Bree. You only see what you want to see."

Aubrey's mouth opened automatically, the response teetering on the tip of her tongue when something made her pause. Did she really do that?

"Like me, Aubrey," Chloe continued, unaware of Aubrey's turmoil on the other side of the line. "What do you see? Who am I? Am I your best friend, a person you respect? Or am your Yes Man? Am I really your co-captain or do I only get a say when it's in agreement with what you want me to say?"

Aubrey winced. That was a frosty tone…"Chloe…"

"I have to go."

Aubrey sighed as the beep sounded abruptly, signaling the end of her call. She placed it aside, running a hand through her hair. Aubrey jumped as her cell phone chirped with an incoming call. Frowning at the unfamiliar number, she raised the device to her ear.

"This is Aubrey Posen."

Aubrey's eyes widened as the melodic timbre of John Smith reached her ears. "Hello, sir…"

She exhaled sharply as the message relayed to her practically stole the breath out of her lungs. Whatever fluff and pomp surrounded the message faded into white noise as the most important part resonated in her mind.

They were _in_.

With that revelation, an even bigger one insinuated itself in her mind. She had work to do. Immediately, her mind shot to the logistics that needed to be planned. She had to know exactly when each Bella returned. Their rehearsal schedule had to be coordinated. She had to book the plane tickets to New York, the hotel, make up an itinerary for a potential multi-day trip. And, of course, they had to brush up on…

…the setlist.

Immediately, Aubrey's mind threw on the brakes, and she gasped, the realization striking her quite solidly and yanking her back to reality. The truth was this wasn't a spot they had earned through their own merit. Their performance wasn't the catalyst that propelled them through to the final round. They had backed in because of a costly blunder that had fortuitously been caught.

The aca-gods had shined down upon her with this second chance. The question now became what would she do with it?

Aubrey could feel herself being pulled into different directions. A large part of her gravitated straight to what she knew and what she was familiar with. But the problem was what she knew and what she was familiar with had not been enough to secure them a spot in the first place.

And there it was.

That was the inconvenient truth.

Aubrey looked to her phone. Then up at the television where Beca's face filled the screen, beaming with delight as she lofted a Grammy statute.

"Oh for crying out loud…"

Her thumbs typed out a quick message, sending it with only the barest of pauses.

_We need to talk. When will you be coming back?_

It took a bit, but she eventually received an answer.

…Not that she was sitting by her phone or anything.

_I refuse any attempts at intervention for me and Chloe._

Aubrey rolled her eyes. Of course she wouldn't make this easy.

_It's not about that. I want to talk to you about the Bellas._

When the response didn't come for a long while, Aubrey sent an addendum.

_Swear to the aca-gods._

Her phone chimed almost instantaneously.

_Monday afternoon._

Aubrey's fingers tapped against the side of her phone. She huffed out a breath, clearly warring with herself. It was a matter of pride, and Aubrey could hear her father's deep voice resonating in her ear.

"_**We are nothing without our pride, Aubrey. Pride is holding your head high so everyone has to look up to you. When we have nothing else, Posens have pride."**_

Aubrey's head snapped up as the idiom flickered in her mind. She thought about that for a moment. Look where her pride got her: a near failure this year. The Bellas, for all the heartache she had endured in the early years under Margo, were like a shining beacon within the rigors of her studies, and she put everything into redemption.

So much for that.

Two girls down before Hood Night was even over.

Barely scraping by a team who utilized _sock puppets _as the gimmicky foundation of their act.

The entire group mutinying and going behind her back to concoct a whole complementary set to their original performance.

Aubrey really had to take a step back and think about where she had gone wrong, where she drove the girls to that sort of desperate takeover.

Well, it surely didn't help she was completely uncompromising when it came to the direction of the Bellas. She was determined to succeed where the rest had failed: a chance to do what those before her hadn't, if only to vindicate herself for Pukegate. After all, her father had often said…

Aubrey halted. The epiphany hit her. She spewed her father's rhetoric almost as often as she slipped an aca-ism into her common parlance.

Fuck her pride. No, _aca_-fuck her pride. She wanted nothing more than to get to Nationals and put a Bella Beatdown on the smirk that permanently resided on that dicklick Leslie's face.

Aubrey's eyes drifted down to the screen of her phone, and she tapped out a message.

_Let me know when you get back. I'll meet you at your place._

Several minutes passed before Beca responded. And when she did, it was a single letter.

_K_.

Aubrey nodded with determined satisfaction. She really hoped she wasn't making a huge mistake.

_And there you go! SUCKER PUNCH! I admit, I knew this one would hit a lot of the feels in a lot of different ways, but I hope it's in a good way. The songs used in this chapter are "Secrets" by One Republic, "Tonight" by Enrique Iglesias, and nerdy03 called it saying I should use "Sweet Nothing" by Calvin Harris feat. Florence Welch. It's the Vulcan Mind Meld!_

_Now that you have an idea what's going on with Chloe, we have some resolutions that need to happen, and going forward, we'll have things coming together. There isn't much left, but I guarantee you'll enjoy it!_

_ Thanks so much to the other half of the team, CJ, for squeezing the very best of the chapter out onto the page. She's truly awesome!_

_ And so, I'll leave you all. Please feel free to let me know what you think! I hope you enjoyed it._

_*ISP_


	12. Chapter 12

_Alright, Stoners. Here is the next chapter. However, instead of my normal ramblings that precede the beginning of the chapter, I gladly pass the baton over to the other half of the team, CJ, to lead you in._

_**Hello Stoners! For those of you who don't know me, my name is CJ and I am ISP's beta. I've been working with her for a little over a year now on a couple of her stories and I can honestly say, it has been a true honor for me. I started out as a fan of her Faberry story, Little Duckling (which will get finished, we promise!) and because she opened herself up during the process of writing, I was able to connect with her and her story in a way I never had the opportunity to with any other fanfic author I have read. **_

_**Over time, I unofficially became her beta and when she sent me this idea she had for a Pitch Perfect story, I have to tell you, at first I was apprehensive. (I'm not even sure if I've shared this with her – umm surprise, ISP!) We were working on this story with characters that we knew inside, out, and backwards, we were deep into the flesh of the story, and now she wanted to take a hiatus from it. To write a story set in a totally different fandom, with characters from a movie. A movie, mind you, that I had only seen once (loved, but still, one viewing, pre-DVD release). A number of doubts flooded my mind and I got nervous, because this was definitely a risk. Did we know these characters well enough? Could we add the details we wanted to while still staying true to them? Would anyone even read it? But at the end of the day, it came down to one thing for me: I trust ISP. Implicitly. Have from the beginning. And so, we took a chance.**_

_**And my goodness, I'm so glad we did! The response to this story has been nothing short of overwhelming. Never did I dream that we would get the response we have and for that I wanted to thank everyone who has taken the time to read, follow, favorite, or review our story. It has just been incredible and I am honestly humbled by it. I hope that you all continue to enjoy the story and please continue to reach out to us with any questions, comments, or general observations. We love hearing from you and honestly, thank you again so much! **_

_And without futher ado:_

* * *

CHAPTER 12

_Cause when push comes to shove  
You taste what you're made of  
You might bend till you break  
Cause it's all you can take  
_

_On your knees you look up  
Decide you've had enough  
You get mad, you get strong  
Wipe your hands, shake it off  
_

_Then you stand_

Life was about perseverance. Adversity came in many forms: physical, emotional, psychological, the list went on and on. What really defined a person, however, was how one responded to that adversity.

It was easy to get knocked down.

It was even easier to stay down.

The hard part was getting up again.

In their own ways, Beca, Chloe, and Aubrey had all overcome the various adversities in their respective lives. They had learned their lessons, some of them difficult. Some of those lessons had beaten them to their lowest, face-in-the-dirt low. But in the end, each woman had dusted off and continued on, and each of them became better people because of it.

If the hard part was picking themselves up again, all three could argue that the most strenuous challenge was how to proceed after they had found their way to their feet.

After all, a very smart man once said that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Beca looked out into the vast expanse of ocean that tickled the edge of Cabo San Lucas's gorgeous sands. That evening she would be returning to Georgia to face Barden and the heartache she left behind. While Spring Break was a nice escape, the reality was that eventually she would have to face the things – and people – she was running from.

In her palm was her phone that bore a message from Aubrey entreating her attention for something Bellas related. What it was, Beca had no idea. She knew their competition season had ended, and to be honest, Beca still wasn't sure she wanted to stay a part of the Bellas this next year. Still, she acquiesced to meeting Aubrey. There was nothing wrong with just hearing the blonde out.

Beca just hoped it was worth it.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Back in Atlanta, Aubrey hefted a sigh. She had just informed the rest of the Bellas, some through text, some through a phone call about their situation. She was met with enthusiasm, and it encouraged her.

A large part of her still held potent hesitation, however. Aubrey Posen was a creature of habit, of meticulous planning and organization.

Beca Mitchell, on the other hand, was barely-organized chaos. She epitomized spontaneity, the type of off-the-cuff, impulsive decision maker that Aubrey could never wrap her head around.

And that was what scared her the most. A cappella was about rigid standards, of meticulous structure. How could someone as spontaneous and unpredictable as Beca possibly understand how to harness the best and richest part of a cappella when she could barely harness herself?

She prayed to the aca-gods that this would not end up erupting in her face.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Beca sat on her couch, her phone in front of her, illuminated from a recent text message from Aubrey saying the blonde captain was on her way. Beca wasn't sure what the blonde could have possibly have wanted, or what was so pressing about the Bellas when it was clear nothing was left for the current team.

Beca thought about the senior Bella, the conundrum that was Aubrey Posen. They had butted heads from the very beginning. It wasn't uncommon to see Beca Mitchell and Aubrey Posen, two forces of nature, battling for dominance during practice. Both women were utterly convinced they were the ultimate authority. Even if she didn't agree with Aubrey's methods, Beca could appreciate the blonde's conviction in 'the Bella way'. And even as they clashed in rehearsals, Beca had seen flashes of the human beneath the cog of Aubrey Posen, Barden Bellas' captain. She had long dispelled the notion that Aubrey was an emotionless cyborg who robotically went through the motions because that's all she knew. She had seen the hurt, had seen the pain Aubrey buried deep inside.

They were alike in that way, Beca mused.

Perhaps, like her father mentioned, the ones that were too much alike understood each other the most.

It wasn't the first time Beca had butted heads with an obstinate force of nature, and she was sure it wouldn't be the last. Beca had butted heads with people with much more power and influence than Aubrey Posen and had come out on top. While she respected the dedication Aubrey held towards that antiquated tradition of the Bella way, she cared much more for the potential that existed in the girls that made up the current group, one that seemed to not fit into Aubrey's Bella mold.

The staccato of knocks jolted her from her thoughts, and Beca rose from the couch. She opened the door to her apartment to find a familiar blonde on the other side.

"Aubrey."

"Beca."

Beca ushered the Bella captain inside, guiding her to the couch. She smirked as Aubrey perched daintily on the cushion, one ankle folded under the other and her hands cradled primly in her lap. One would think Aubrey was waiting for an audience with the queen.

Beca waited for the blonde to speak first. Aubrey glanced down at her hands. She twirled the Barden class ring around her finger, frowning thoughtfully at the light blue gem she had chosen for the center stone (for the Bellas, of course).

"I received a call from the ICCA," she began without any preamble. "The Footnotes' lead singer is still in high school. They've been disqualified." Aubrey took a deep breath. "We're in."

Beca kept her face impassive, carefully schooling her features to not betray even the slightest emotion. She nodded slowly. "Okay. So what does that have to do with me, exactly?"

"This is my chance…" Aubrey paused, taking another deep breath, "_our_ chance to make this memorable." She glanced up, eyes searching Beca's imploringly.

"I need your help."

Beca's chin tilted upwards, and she crossed her arms, leaning casually against her television stand. "You need my help," Beca repeated. "You need the help of an 'alt girl who has never won a competition', huh?" A corner of her mouth quirked upward in the smallest of smirks. She frowned thoughtfully, seemingly absorbing this information. "Interesting."

Aubrey rolled her eyes. "Don't be smug, Mitchell. I don't like having to swallow my pride."

"And yet here you are," Beca drawled, her eyes sparkling with barely disguised mirth.

Aubrey huffed out out a disbelieving chuckle. Her eyes went to the television stand where Beca's two newest Grammy awards sat amidst the various knick-knacks that decorated the surface. She rose from her chair, running a reverent hand over Beca's latest album, certified platinum by the RCIA. She glanced over to Beca. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Beca smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. "Would it have made a difference?"

Aubrey deflated. "I don't know. Maybe." As Beca snorted, she conceded with a hitch of her head. "Okay, probably not."

Beca's mouth quirked in amusement. "So what makes you want to change now?"

Aubrey's shoulders slumped. "Look, you were right."

"Of course I am," Beca asserted with a dismissive wave of her hand. "When it comes to music, I'm very rarely wrong. You're gonna have to narrow it down for me."

Aubrey's eyes narrowed in a mild glare. "You're not going to make this easy, are you?"

Beca's head shook slowly from side to side. "I _could_," she remarked off-handedly. "Not feeling particularly charitable at the moment, though."

"I watched tape of Semis," Aubrey admitted.

Beca's brows drew together in confusion. "Tape?"

"They tape performances," Aubrey edified. "You didn't know that?"

"No," Beca asserted succinctly. Her brows furrowed. "Why?"

Aubrey looked her like she was insane. "For the captains so we can analyze the performance, duh."

"Analyze the performance?"

"And see where we can make improvements." Aubrey looked at her like she was crazy. "It's an important tool to refining our routines. How do you think I know what changes to make during each rehearsal?"

Beca shrugged. "I just figured you had a set of eyes hidden in your hair."

Aubrey's nose wrinkled at the visual. She crossed her arms. "Really, Beca," she chastised. "This isn't high school! This is real life, and we take this seriously."

Beca rolled her eyes. "Okay, two things. One," she held up the appropriate finger. "Please don't reference Tommy in any manner. I saw the dude strung up from his underwear on the flagpole in front of the student union last month. His word has lost all credibility. Two," Beca lofted the second finger, "pump your breaks, Speed Racer. I wasn't saying anything bad about the fact. I was just surprised."

Aubrey huffed out a sigh. "All I'm saying is that this isn't their first rodeo. The ICCAs have been doing this for awhile."

Beca snorted. "I'll take your word for it." She sat down across from Aubrey. "Alright, then, I'll bite. What did the tape show?"

"It showed that you were right," Aubrey admitted. "I have an amazing group, but I've been so stuck in my ways, I haven't been cognizant of that."

Beca nodded slowly. "Okay. I'm glad you've undergone this epiphany of self-discovery, but what does that have to do with me?"

"Look, I know that I've got an amazing group of girls, but what they bring to the table is just so…beyond me." Aubrey ran a hand through her hair. "The truth is I _don't_ know what to do with them." Piercing green eyes leveled onto hers.

"But you do." Aubrey's eyes softened in recognition.

"You've always known what to do with them, haven't you?"

Beca didn't answer for a long time. She moved to the mantle, her hand stroking a photo right beside one of the albums.

"You know, when I was a kid, it was my mom and me a lot," she began conversationally. "My dad wasn't around, so we kind of just fended for ourselves."

Aubrey didn't comment, just let Beca talk.

"She told me that if I could find the music where people couldn't I could separate myself from every other DJ and music producer out there." Beca's eyes lifted to Aubrey's and there was a seriousness Aubrey had never seen before.

"I've made my living hearing things that people miss and putting sounds together that people didn't think would work or sound good." Beca crossed her arms, her gaze full of intent. "It's what makes me different."

Beca crossed in front to her other Grammy statuette. "Before she died from breast cancer, she told me to promise that she wouldn't let anything or anyone stop me from making music. She told me as long as I loved music to go out there and go get my dream." Beca leveled a very serious stare to the blonde.

"I really hate to break it to you, Aubrey, but I've been told by a lot more important people that they didn't think I could make it." Beca lifted her chin in a show of defiance.

"I proved them all wrong." Beca cocked her head. "You know why?"

Aubrey shrugged.

"I take the risks that they don't," Beca answered. "I'm not sure about a lot of things, Aubrey," Beca remarked, "but when it comes to music, I'm very rarely, if ever, wrong."

Aubrey's mouth twisted into a thoughtful frown, her eyebrows drawing together. "I lost my mom, too," Aubrey offered. "Car accident. It all happened so fast. The beginning of the day, she was there, the end, she was gone." Aubrey shrugged. "My dad didn't have time to prepare for it." Her eyes plummeted down to her shoes.

"He threw himself into work and started ignoring me. I guess it was his way of coping. The only time he would pay attention is just to tell me how inadequate I was."

"I know the feeling. My dad does it all the time." Beca scrunched a hand through her hair. "He cheated on my mom with Dr. Gardner," Beca revealed. "Back in Oregon, they worked at the same college. It was like my mom and I didn't matter enough for him to stay faithful. He ran when things got tough." Beca dropped her head. "I tend to do the same." She scoffed wryly. "I never wanted to be like my dad. Especially not in that way."

"That wasn't your fault," Aubrey conceded. "I drove you away."

Beca shrugged. She canted her head, peering over at the taller woman. "So tell me, Aubrey Posen," Beca drawled. "Why _should_ I help you?"

Aubrey sighed. "Because that arrangement you did was amazing. And when I looked you up online, the stuff I found was amazing." She leveled a gaze at Beca.

"You were right. We have a chance to really change not only the perception of the Bellas but what we are able to do with a cappella. That is going to make us memorable."

"Look, I judged you before I knew you," Aubrey admitted. "I didn't think you were anything but the 'alt girl with the ear monstrosities'." Aubrey ducked her head in repentance. "I'm sorry."

Beca surveyed her. She nodded. "Apology accepted." Beca conceded her own apology. "I'm sorry if I made things difficult."

Aubrey shrugged. "I should have listened."

Beca's chin tilted upward. "But you have to convince me that you're going to change," she challenged. "Why do you want me?"

Aubrey's eyes sought out Beca's, equally as intense. "Look, Beca, I think we can really make a statement. Like you said before, I think we can really change the face of a cappella. You're the one to take us there." Aubrey's expression entreated with slight desperation. "I'm sorry for dismissing you like I did, but if you can forgive me, I think you could win us Nationals."

Aubrey waited as the words sunk in for Beca. She could readily admit that the anticipation was killing her. Beca wasn't betraying anything. Her expression was completely impassive.

A slow, melting smirk appeared on Beca's lips. Her eyes sparkled with calculated glee. "Now, Aubrey Posen, _that_ is an offer I'd be stupid to refuse."

xxx-xxx-xxx

Chloe settled into her bed in her apartment back at Barden. Aubrey was out but her things were in her room. She had gotten the text while recovering in the hospital and had to labor really, really hard not to scream out in unadulterated joy.

Unconsciously, she touched her throat where her nodes had once been. This was going to be a definite change. The recovery was going to be difficult, she wasn't able to talk for a week. Even more pressing was the idea that her singing voice was still building strength as well. Her range was a little reduced, but her vocal coach assured her that with time, she should possibly regain her full range. Chloe took comfort in that notion.

Still, her eyes drifted down to her phone where she had brought up Aubrey's message. Idly, she wondered if Aubrey even thought to let Beca know. Chloe bit her lip. She wondered if she was overstepping her boundaries by extending the invitation to Beca. Regardless if the DJ was still not speaking to her, Beca was still part of the Bellas and definitely deserved to know.

Mind made up, Chloe scrolled through her favorite contacts until she found Beca. Her thumbs flew over the touch screen, typing out a short message. Nothing too contrived, no ulterior motives, just a simple message letting her know they were back in competition and that they planned a meeting for the upcoming week.

Chloe set her phone down with a deep breath and a satisfied nod.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Chloe grabbed her bag, slipping out of the apartment and heading towards the rehearsal room. It was a bit of a trek to the other side of campus, but Chloe wasn't up for driving. She needed the time to think, the time to mentally prepare herself. She wasn't sure if Beca was going to be at the meeting, but she wanted to make sure she steeled herself towards the possibility the DJ still held some animosity towards her.

She was resigned to the circumstances. Beca's hostility certainly wasn't going to just abate in the span of a week; she wasn't naïve enough to put blind faith in that assumption. It was up to her to fix this disconnect that separated them, if not for the possibility of being able to win Beca back but because she truly and genuinely loved having Beca in her life.

There was something about Beca Mitchell, something that made life that much more exciting. It wasn't just the celebrity behind the name or the quality of the work she was able to produce, it was her way that she communicated through music. It was the way music ruled and commanded Beca's life and how she was able to do the same to music. It was the way Beca wasn't an overt personality. Even if Beca wasn't DJ Lady B, the intricacies that constituted the different aspects of the tiny brunette left Chloe little doubt that she would have found herself irrevocably attracted to Beca Mitchell.

Chloe steeled herself mentally, secure in her objective. She was going to get Beca back, no matter what. Chloe squared her shoulders, putting a bit of pep in her step. She now had a purpose, an objective.

Alright, Beale.

Game on.

Chloe's inner missive halted, however, when a sickeningly sweet voice cut through her musings.

Chloe growled low in her throat.

Paige Daniels.

Still at Barden.

She groaned inwardly, schooling her features carefully.

_Seriously_, though.

Was this movie _ever_ going to end?

Chloe plastered a smile on her face, turning to face the actress. "Paige. Always a pleasure."

"So, how was your Spring Break, Chloe?" Paige began, her conversational tone deceptive in its objective. "I expected to see you in Cabo. Imagine my surprise when…" she shrugged. "Nothing."

Chloe drew in a deep breath, exhaling slowly. Her smile stayed polite but stiffened. "I had other plans."

"Pity you couldn't join us," Paige drawled, flicking a finger through her curly hair. "It really was paradise." She sighed theatrically. "The sand, the sun, and Beca in a bikini?" Paige leered. "So much…_delicious_ skin."

Chloe could feel her hackles rise, and she fought to keep her composure. Chloe had always been the type of person to give people the benefit of the doubt, to truly avoid bearing ill will towards others…

…But something about Paige Daniels inherently wormed its way under her skin.

Chloe smiled tightly. "Well, it's nothing we both haven't seen before," she remarked flippantly, trying to make light of Paige's words.

Paige hummed, her green eyes sparkling with malevolent intent. "Oh, yeah," she practically purred. "That body of hers. For a tiny little thing, she knows how to work it. And I'm sure you know, Beca is the _best_ kisser." Paige bit her lip. "I forgot how good those lips felt, and that talented tongue…" she shivered. "I needed that reminder."

Chloe's gaze narrowed. The innuendo was quite clear in Paige's tone and mannerism. And as hard as she labored otherwise, it ate at her resolve. She had the utmost confidence in Beca's indifference towards Paige Daniels, but she couldn't help but allow that irritation, aggravating, niggling modicum of doubt to creep into her subconscious.

Paige smirked, knowing full-well that her words had an effect on the other woman. She flipped her hair, flouncing away with one last shot over her shoulder. "But, like I said, pity you weren't in Cabo…"

Chloe's jaw tightened as she watched Paige's departure. Her eyes watched the actress, and she could feel her shoulders tensing.

Paige.

_Freakin'_.

Daniels.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Aubrey paced the rehearsal room, hands wringing and mumbling to herself. She went over what she was going to say to the girls, what she was going to emphasize and what she was going to cover. She likened it to how she would eventually talk to a jury in an opening and closing statement.

She could do this.

…Right?

Aubrey glanced up as the girls started to trickle in, chatting excitedly. It made Aubrey smile to know they were just as excited as she was in this new development. She ushered them into the seats. Chloe shuffled in last, and Aubrey cocked her head at the stormy look adorning her best friend's face. She looked to her watch, her eyes flicking towards the door. Beca was still yet to arrive, but Aubrey shrugged it off. The DJ didn't need to be here for this part of the meeting.

She looked at the white board where the past Bellas pictures were displayed, a constant reminder of the groups that had come before them. Her resolve weakened for a scant moment. Her eyes zeroed in on Margo's face.

God, it would have been sweet, sweet vindication if she would…

No, Posen, she chastised herself. This is no time for doubt, no time for hesitation. This change was necessary.

Aubrey turned back to the group. "Ladies, the aca-gods have smiled upon us!" she enthused, practically bouncing with excitement. "We've been given this amazing second chance to really show them what the Bellas are about!"

"But we're not, are we?"

Aubrey paused, eyes snapping to Chloe. "Aca-scuse me?"

The same sullen, stormy look had not left Chloe's face. "Things aren't going to be any different," Chloe repeated. "It's going to be the same setlist, same costumes, same everything…same Bellas."

Aubrey opened her mouth to respond. "Actually–"

But there was no stopping Chloe Beale. She was on a roll, and she had been holding this in since the start of the year. That frustration combined with her latest encounter with Paige Daniels, combined with the aggravation she felt over her own shortcomings simmered, and with this latest revelation, finally spilled over to its boiling point.

"Oh, no!" Chloe barked, her hand slashing through the air. "You've been talking over me since the day we met. It's my turn to have a say! It's my turn to have a voice." Her foot placed firmly on the ground, Chloe continued her rant. "I mean, seriously, Aubrey? Do you like being the laughingstock of the a cappella community? Do you like being on Bumper's radar nonstop?"

Aubrey's eyes widened, and she fought to keep her composure. Her gaze darted to the entrance of the rehearsal room, wondering what was taking Beca so long. She could honestly use some backup right about now.

It seemed as though Chloe was itching for a fight, and those vivid blue eyes were flashing with aggressive fury.

"Because let me tell you, Aubrey, it's getting to the point where I don't. I'm starting to dread putting on that stupid stewardess uniform and watching people fall asleep during our performances. You say it's all for tradition? _Fuck_ tradition!"

"Now wait just a second!" Aubrey barked, her hands thrust on her hips. "I admit that I may have gotten a little carried away with my mission of vindication, but I am not going to apologize for trying to keep the Bella way alive." She advanced on Chloe. "That was the way that brought us together, Chloe. If you remember, you and I both bought into that way back in freshman year."

"Whoa, there, Sheilas!" Amy appeared between the two, keeping them at arms' length. "Cool down, now. This is happy news…Let's not get nasty…"

Even with Amy between them, the two senior Bellas continued their battle, undaunted with the Tasmanian's presence blocking them from one another.

"Yeah, I bought into that back then," Chloe conceded, "but I'm pretty sure after losing every year for the past three years, I woke up to the fact that it just doesn't work! Dammit, Aubrey, I'm tired of being second fiddle to the Trebles."

"Well, so am I!" Aubrey barked.

"So why haven't we changed?" Chloe retorted. "I want to be different! I'm tired of having Margo's shadow hovering over us! She's not here anymore. You and I don't have to be her little puppets. These aren't her Bellas! These are _our_ Bellas!"

Aubrey leaned forward, unconcerned with Amy's forearm pushing her back. "I know that!"

"So why the hell are we are we still sticking with our setlist?"

"Sorry I'm late I got caught up when–" Beca halted as she took in the chaos. Aubrey and Chloe were nose to nose, bickering loudly, barely held apart by Amy in the middle. The other Bellas were voicing their own displeasure from the outside. Beca cocked an eyebrow, rolling her eyes. Of course nothing would be easy. Making a circle with her thumb and forefinger, she braced them between her lips and blew out sharply. A high-pitched whistle burst forth. In hindsight, she could have just used her Barden-issued rape whistle, but Beca was honestly a bit frightened of the potential consequences.

The Bellas halted, all turning their attention to the entrance. Beca smirked, arms crossing over her chest.

"Geeze, Posen," she drawled. "You really know how to command a room."

Cynthia Rose spoke first. They all looked pretty exhausted from the emotional confrontation. "Beca? What are you doing here?"

Beca cocked her head. "Aubrey asked me back." She shot the blonde a wry look. "We're re-doing the setlist and putting a little DJ Lady B flavor into it." The announcement was met with cheers, and Beca's eyebrows furrowed as she looked up at Aubrey.

"Didn't you tell them?"

"That's what I was trying to explain before _someone_ decided to jump down my throat," Aubrey snapped, eyes burning holes through Chloe.

The redhead flushed. "Aca-oops," she mumbled sheepishly.

"Wait," Amy cut in. "So, just like that?" She looked from Aubrey to Beca and back to Aubrey. "After all of that, everything's peachy keen?"

Aubrey sighed. "Look, guys, I know I've been hard on you all, and I know I've been stubborn." She shrugged helplessly. "I guess I thought I was doing the right thing for all of us. It turns out the right thing isn't necessarily what I've been doing this whole time."

She guided them all to the seats again, standing before her team, Beca beside her.

"You guys really opened up my eyes during Semis, and Beca and I have been talking." The blonde glanced towards Beca who shot her an encouraging look. "I've been made aware of certain…facts. I think she is the key to taking us to the next level." Aubrey drew the blue Bellas pitch pipe from the pocket of her jeans, passing it to Beca. "The truth is, I don't know what to do with you all. Your talents are completely beyond what I'm capable of. But they aren't beyond Beca, so I'm willing to have her take the reins on this."

All eyes turned to Beca who nodded. "And I promise I'm in this one hundred-percent. You won't have to worry about me quitting. It wasn't cool walking out on you guys at Semis." She dropped her head in concession. "I'm sorry."

"We should've stuck up for you more," Cynthia Rose interjected, gesturing to the rest of the Bellas. The girls nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, we pushed you to make the new arrangement," Amy added. "We're just as at fault as you are if not more."

"Well, we don't have to worry about that," Aubrey promised. "It's going to be all of us, together." Aubrey looked to each girl in turn, her eyes settling on Chloe's. "Everyone is going to have a say."

"So what about the Bella tradition and all that?" Stacie ventured. "I mean, not all of it was bad." She shrugged. "I liked being a part of something, knowing it goes back so far."

"You're right," Aubrey agreed. "Not all of the Bella tradition is bad. But I tried to force you guys into the mold when you didn't really fit." She shrugged. "And it's not a bad thing. We can still be Bellas; we just don't have to be those Bellas," she gestured to the pictures of the past teams. "We can be ourselves. _Our_ Bellas." She cast a glance to Beca.

"So, Beca," Aubrey leveled a serious glance to the DJ. "What do we do?"

Beca merely smiled.

xxx-xxx-xxx

They returned to the rehearsal room with an air of triumph about them. With Chloe assuring them she was good to take the lead despite her surgery, Beca had taken Aubrey's suggestion and led them in a rendition of Bruno Mars' "Just The Way You Are", mashing it up with Nelly's "Just a Dream". There had been a moment during the mash-up, right as Beca led into the chorus of "Just a Dream" where her eyes met Chloe's.

It had taken her back to their very first meeting when those vivid blue eyes leveled on hers as they harmonized in a shower stall. She remembered those baby blues piercing through her, remembered how it stirred something in her. The connection was still there, there was no denying it and hearing Chloe's sweet, lilting timbre burst forward without the hindrance of pain was something that had a pang ricocheting around the walls of her heart.

As the girls began to pack up their things, Chloe sidled up to Beca. Hesitantly, she reached out, laying a tentative hand on Beca's arm. Her breath hitched as Beca's navy blue gaze leveled steadily on hers. There wasn't that sparkle of intense fury that had occupied the DJ's eyes every time Beca looked at Chloe. Instead, there was a glint of acquiescent resignation.

Chloe wasn't sure what was worse.

"Can we talk?"

Beca considered the notion, her head tilting in deliberation. Chloe could see the wheels turning in the other woman's mind as she very clearly weighed the pros and cons of accepting. Chloe's eyes widened infinitesimally as she placed the most innocent, most pleading expression on her face. She entreated Beca silently, willing her to comply, knowing that no matter the circumstance, no matter Beca's current mood, the smaller woman was particularly susceptible to that look.

Sure enough Beca crumbled and softened, nodded almost wearily. Chloe tried to not to let her potent relief show.

"Sure."

They moved to the bleachers, taking a seat on the chairs. A couple beats of uncomfortable silence passed before Chloe offered the first bit of conversation.

"So how was your break?"  
Beca's mouth opened then closed as she quite obviously warred with herself. The hesitation caused a rather sobering thought to flash through Chloe's mind. Something happened during those ten days that Beca didn't want to divulge. And Chloe had a sinking feeling that it had something to do with sex. Beca's cheeks pinked, and she squeaked out a response, her eyes darting around the rehearsal room.

"Fine…" She shrugged. "Cabo was excellent." She looked down to her hands, twisting the group of bracelets around her left wrist. "I got to forget about things for a while."

Chloe swallowed hard. "And did you?" She was a bit scared of the answer, to be honest.

Beca huffed out a short laugh, shoulders hunching to her ears as her eyes flicked upward. Slowly, her head shook back and forth, and she spoke as though she was still working it out for herself.

"I don't think that was possible." Her head ducked down to her chest. "And believe me, I tried."

"Ouch," Chloe mumbled.

Beca scrunched a hand through her hair. She fiddled with the ring around her thumb. "I didn't mean it as a dig."

"I deserved it," Chloe offered, a pained expression on her face.

Beca shrugged. "Maybe. But we're adults," she conceded, "and holding a grudge is stupid."

Well, if Beca was being mature about it, so could she. Chloe sighed in submission. "It wasn't stupid. You had a good reason."

Beca shrugged again, not responding. "How about you?" she asked, venturing back into safe territory. "How was your break?"

This time was Chloe's turn to shrug. "Not as exciting as yours, I'd imagine," she remarked. "Just hung around the house. But Carson's home," Chloe commented. "For good now. He's going to Boston University's law school in the fall."

Beca nodded. "Cool."

Chloe blew out a slow, leaking breath, gathering her thoughts and calming herself before speaking. "Beca, I want to apologize."

Beca didn't respond, only listened as Chloe continued, spilling everything out.

"While I was home, I thought a lot about things, and I thought a lot about you."

Beca looked to Chloe, seeing the redhead miles away, as though the conversation wasn't just between the two of them.

"Things happened in my past," Chloe revealed. "And it really influenced the way I handle stuff now."

"What things?" Beca ventured.

Chloe's mouth opened then closed. She hung her head. "It's…hard to talk about," she mumbled. Her eyes pleaded for understanding. Beca nodded slowly. That part of the story would come in time. She leaned back against the seats, her eyes drifting up towards the ceiling.

"Look, Chloe, you hurt me," Beca answered honestly. "I didn't like the way I felt when you did what you did."

"How did you feel?"

"Helpless," Beca remarked. "Like I had no control of anything. Like my emotions weren't my own." Her head shook slowly from side to side. "I _really_ didn't like it."

Chloe inhaled slowly and exhaled just as languidly. "Beca…" She paused, trying to organize her thoughts. Finally, she deflated, shaking her head in defeat.

"I miss you."

A corner of Beca's mouth twitched ruefully. It was as though someone had completely let all the air out of her. There was no more fight, no more aggression, no more vindictive abhorrence…just begrudging compliance. She looked tired.

Beca scrunched a hand through her hair. She glanced sideways to Chloe, seeing those big, baby blues filling her vision. The revelation struck her between the eyes. She had tried to forget Chloe.

The truth was that there was no forgetting Chloe Beale.

And in that moment, she truly knew what it was to lose ones heart.

She didn't respond, merely fixed a determined stare to her boots.

Chloe stood slowly. "I have to go, but can we talk?" she asked. "Later?"

Beca nodded. "Yeah."

Chloe smiled and gathered her things. Her hand reached out, hesitantly coming to rest on Beca's shoulder. "I'll stop by your place."

There was so much more Chloe wanted to do, and inwardly, she warred with herself. Her heart and mind were screaming at her to simply grab the DJ and kiss her into submission of the potent emotions and tension that still lingered between them. Her body could still feel the vibration of electricity that manifested itself with a simple touch.

But the greater sensible part of her subconscious berated her to see reason. To pressure Beca into a resolution too quickly would certainly send her stumbling ass over tit backwards in the haste of her retreat. That would push her further away.

So, Chloe took the difficult but correct course of action.

With a squeeze to Beca's shoulder, she turned and walked away.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Aubrey took a seat beside Beca as the DJ settled on the bench of the piano and plunked out a random set of notes. Beca's face was unreadable as it bowed over the black and white keys.

"That looked encouraging," she remarked.

Beca grunted, knowing what Aubrey was referencing, and her shoulders hunched to her ears. "Dunno."

Aubrey's eyebrows quirked upward in amusement. "Beca, you can't hold this grudge forever. Chloe's personality won't allow it."

Beca chuckled, knowing the truth in Aubrey's words. For as much hurt still resided in the shallow recesses of her immediate emotions, Chloe's vibrant, effervescent nature would find their way past the intricate alleys of Beca's heart to the core.

"I know." Beca sighed, shaking her head minutely. "I just…I need to hold onto this for just a little while longer. Just to make myself feel like it was worth it." She tapped at the keys. "It still hurts, you know. And not just my heart."

Aubrey nodded with sympathy. "I'm sure it does. It's not easy for her to talk about the past, you know. Especially not this part."

Beca's navy blue eyes swept up and down the blonde. Her mouth opened before her mind implored her to reconsider. Beca paused, clearly struggling with herself over whether or not to push the issue. A frustrated grunt expelled from Beca's lungs as she ducked her head, running her hands through her hair in exasperation, and a barely audible "Fuck it," burst from her lips. Eyes steeled with resolve, they lofted back up to Aubrey. "You know why, right?"

Aubrey nodded.

Beca considered that for a moment. "Is it really that bad?" she ventured. "I mean, am I gonna feel like a jackass for holding onto my pride and prolonging it?"

Aubrey sighed, worrying her lip. "I mean, it's pretty bad," she admitted. "Once she tells you, you'll certainly understand, but it still doesn't really condone what Chloe did."

Beca sighed, nodding in begrudging acceptance.

Aubrey cocked her head. "Can I give you some advice?"

Beca snorted. "Sure."

"'It is better to lose your pride with someone you love rather than to lose that someone you love with your useless pride'," Aubrey recited.

Beca huffed. "I didn't know the doctrines of John Ruskin made his way into the realm of Barden's PoliSci curriculum."

Aubrey's mouth dropped in surprise. "How did you know…?" She caught the expectant eyebrow raise. "Right," she grumbled. "You picked it up somewhere."

Beca grinned.

"I took a couple of Art History classes," Aubrey divulged. "It was a little rebellion of mine. I knew my dad would hate it."

"You maverick, you."

"He's right, you know," Aubrey remarked softly.

"Yeah…" Beca drawled. Her hands settled on the keys of the piano. They started to form actual melodies rather than random notes. "But idealism is only in theory. Execution is a whole different story."

Aubrey's head tilted as she observed Beca. "You are strangely profound, you know that?"

Beca chuckled with a shrug, still idly playing, switching effortlessly from song to song. Aubrey watched her curiously, picking up strands of Bonnie Raitt's "I Can't Make You Love Me", Sarah McLachlan's "Angel", and One Republic's, "Apologize".

"How long have you been playing?"

"Since I was a kid," Beca answered. "My mom loved all types of music." Beca smiled fondly. "She imparted her love and knowledge onto me. It was our way of coping with my dad never being around. My stepdad's father taught me how to _really_ play." Beca's smile softened with fondness. "He told me, 'Bug'," Beca's voice lowered and roughened to mimic Jed's gruff timbre. "'There are two things in life that will forever make a woman swoon: a big penis and being able to play a musical instrument really, really well. Now since you obviously ain't got one, we're gonna have make you really, really, _really_ good at the other.'"

Aubrey laughed.

Beca hummed. "He's awesome. The type of guy who just has a wealth of life experience and knowledge, you know?"

Her fingers danced across the keys in a recognizable introduction to a classic eighties song. Aubrey smiled softly, her eyes closing as she started swaying.

"I love this song," she sighed.

Beca grinned. She watched the blonde lose herself in the music. She encouraged Aubrey with a nod, her grin softening as Aubrey's light voice accompanied the piano.

_Lying in my bed  
I hear the clock tick and think of you  
Caught up in circles  
Confusion is nothing new  
_

_Flashback, warm nights  
Almost left behind  
Suitcases of memories,  
Time after_

_Sometimes you picture me_  
_I'm walking too far ahead_  
_You're calling to me_

_I can't hear what you've said _

There was something raw in Aubrey's voice. It was intriguing to Beca. Normally, the blonde captain was so reserved, so controlled, so precise. But in this moment, it was Aubrey laid bare through song. This was Aubrey without rigid mores, without expectations, without the stifling straightjacket that was their normal performance standards.

She watched Aubrey's eyes drift closed, the senior Bella losing herself in the melody and the music. This Aubrey wasn't concerned with perfection or the pressures of competition. This Aubrey was just singing.

And it was glorious.

_Then you say, "Go slow"  
I fall behind  
The second hand unwinds_

_If you're lost, you can look, and you will find me_  
_Time after time_  
_If you fall I will catch you, I'll be waiting_  
_Time after time_

Just as Beca was watching Aubrey, the blonde did the same. Her eyes and ears picked up on the subtle cues Beca was sending her towards the cadence and the tempo of their rendition. A piercing green stare observed long, thin fingers caress the keys lovingly, her mouth curved in a tender smile.

There wasn't any sheet music in front of Beca. She was doing this entirely from memory. It was though Beca was simply instinctive in flowing with the music and Aubrey's cadence of singing.

As the song wound down, Aubrey recalled Chloe commenting on what singing with Beca was like. Chloe had called it a connection of the most intense kind. According to the other senior Bella, the sensation like Beca had reached into her mind, pulling out the musical part of her brain and telepathically linking them together. It was as though Beca just knew how to perfectly complement Chloe, and experiencing this, Aubrey was definitely starting to believe.

_If you're lost, you can look, and you will find me  
Time after time  
If you fall I will catch you, I'll be waiting  
Time after time  
_

_Time after time  
Time after time  
Time after time  
Time after time _

Beca let the final notes ring though the rehearsal room, and with a grin, she patted the keys fondly.

"Before I had all of that equipment, it was just me and a piano." She smiled. "Sometimes you just have to go back to the basics."

"Back to the basics," Aubrey repeated. She drew in a determined breath, eyes flashing with intent. "Okay, then. What's the first step?"

Beca grinned. "Well, we have to see exactly what we've got." She smirked. "I have a distinct feeling there's a lot we can work with, we just have to let the girls shine."

Aubrey cocked her head. "Like?"

Beca smirked. "Have you ever heard Lilly beatbox? She's pretty amazing."

Aubrey's mouth dropped. "Lilly can beatbox?"

Beca chuckled. "Look, all I'm saying is that we have a lot of pieces in place, and working together with a new arrangement is going to really bring out the best in what we have." She squared up to the senior. "We're gonna do great. I promise."

Aubrey cocked an eyebrow at Beca's confidence. "You really think so?"

Beca's half-smirk appeared. For once, it wasn't as irritating to Aubrey as it normally was. She nodded shortly.

The two surveyed one another. Beca held out her palm. "Let's do this."

Aubrey nodded, determination clear in her clear green eyes. She met Beca in the middle, grasping the offered hand. And like a legendary group before them, sealed their pact with a handshake.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Aubrey and Beca had reached an understanding. Their utmost priority was to revamp the setlist and arrange the songs they would be working with. But, inevitably, two very strong forces of nature were bound to butt heads…and Chloe was unfortunately stuck in the middle.

For as much as they were sure this partnership was going to work…

…It also had the possibility of complete and utter implosion.

"Expand your mind, Posen!" Beca barked, hands firmly planted on her hips.

"There will not be rapping in the arrangement, Mitchell," Aubrey screeched in return, her finger thrust forward with indignation. We will not defame the Bella tradition and a cappella with that drivel! It's bad enough the Trebles do it!"

Chloe watched from the couch, her head following the fencing match between Aubrey and Beca. She had already given her two-cents about the matter, but it was up to Beca and Aubrey to duel it out over what they were eventually going to decide on.

"Why the hell not?" Beca retorted, throwing her arms in the air. "That would be the _last_ thing the judges expect from us! Especially from an all-girl group. Have you ever heard Cynthia Rose's flow? It's excellent!"

"It's shock factor," Aubrey argued hotly. "It's a gimmick, and I won't allow it to compromise our musicality!"

"Who says it will?" Beca countered. "We're layering the rap over vocals. It'll be…" Her argument was cut off by the sharp, shrill cadence of Beca's ringtone. The DJ glanced to the device, frowning when she recognized the number. Holding a finger up to Aubrey, she swiped her thumb across the screen.

"Beca Mitchell." Beca cocked her head. "Uh…oh…okay." She shook her head. "No, that's good news. I would have loved a little warning, and I know Jules wanted in on this record as well." She recoiled in surprise. "What do you mean Jules is already there?" Beca rolled her eyes. "Alright, fine, I'll be there as soon as I can." She started gathering up her things. "Alright, alright…bye."

"Where are you going?"

Beca pointed at her phone. "That was my record label. I've been trying to schedule time with an artist to finish up his next album, but things have been hectic. He got married late last year, and had a sort of existential epiphany concerning his career and where he wanted to go with it." Beca rolled her eyes fondly. "Luckily, he's down South to visit people, and he carved out some time to meet with me to finish up a couple of tracks."

"What about the setlist?"

Beca sighed. "Look, Aubrey, it's obvious we're kinda stuck. Neither of us are gonna bend on this. Why don't we take a break and come back to it. Hopefully, we can come back with clear minds and can make some headway." With that, she breezed out the door, leaving Chloe and Aubrey gazing after her.

"How does anyone work with her?" Aubrey raged, pacing in front of Chloe, her hands thrown into the air. "She is completely obstinate! There's no compromising with her!"

Chloe cocked an eyebrow. "Aubrey, you asked her for help," she reminded the blonde. "You have to be open to the idea that she actually know what she's talking about. That everything she is telling you actually might have some merit."

Aubrey huffed out a snort. "Look, I get it, she's some badass DJ and producer. But Chloe, this is _a cappella_."

"Aubrey, it's _music_," Chloe shot back.

"Yeah, yeah, and Beca knows music." Aubrey blew out a deep breath. "I just don't _get_ her," she groaned. "Like her brain is just…beyond my comprehension."

Chloe smiled. "You can't just put Beca in a little box," she remarked. "She kind of defies definition."

"Yeah, but if I don't understand her, how am I supposed to be able to work with her?" Aubrey asked.

Chloe paused. That was a good point. She thought about that for a moment, tapping her pen against her lips. Chloe sighed. "I guess if anyone would get Beca more than anyone, it would be Jesse. He's known her since they were kids."

Aubrey's nose wrinkled at the idea of going to a _Treble_ for help. She shot a pleading look to Chloe.

The redhead giggled, cocking an eyebrow. "How much are you willing to sacrifice for this win, Bree?"

Aubrey sighed. How much, indeed?

xxx-xxx-xxx

Much to her everlasting chagrin, Aubrey complied and found herself in front of the campus radio station. She looked up at the dark, rundown structure with trepidation. With a hefty sigh and a determined square of her shoulders, she opened the door and stepped inside.

An empty desk was the first sight that greeted her, piled high with files. A short set of stairs led down to the main floor. It was even more dark and gloomy inside, the brightest light coming from the booth in the center of the room. Shelves of records lined perimeter and even more could be seen on the upper floor.

It seemed to be empty.

"Hello?"

Jesse Evans's head popped out from the shelves along the second floor. He leaned over the railing. "Hey."

Aubrey glanced up, eyeing him dubiously.

He shot out a wide grin, descending down to the main floor. "Can I help you?"

"I don't know." She looked suspiciously at him. He was a Treble. That was all that needed to be said.

As if he read her mind, Jesse's eyebrows shot skyward, and he lofted his hands as he approached. "Whoa, there. I come in peace."

Aubrey sighed. "Sorry, habit."

Jesse smiled wryly. "I bet. I don't really blame you. Bumper has your class schedule memorized. Just so he can randomly show up to mess with you."

Aubrey wrinkled her nose. "That doesn't surprise me."

"So what brings you here?"

Aubrey's shoulders slumped as she scanned her gaze skyward. "I don't know."

Jesse's lips curved into another lopsided smile. "Look, Aubrey, I'm not the most perceptive person ever, but even I know that's not entirely true." He patted the desk in the center of the room laden down with various mediums of music. "Plus, no one comes to the station 'just because'."

Aubrey took that as his word. She clambered onto the wooden surface, rearranging her cardigan sweater and crossing her long legs primly.

Jesse's mouth curved into his goofy, lopsided half-smile. "So, what's on your mind?"

Aubrey twirled her class ring around her long finger. "Beca," she sighed.

Jesse chuckled. "Really?" His head tilted curiously. "That's interesting."

Aubrey's gaze grew hard, and she leveled a sharp, fierce gaze Jesse's way. "I assume you have the foresight and the prudence to keep this between us and not to whisper a single word to that dicklick you call a captain?"

Jesse chuckled, lofting three fingers. "I swear on my three weeks as a Boy Scout," he vowed. Sobering, he shook his head. "But seriously, I've had a loyalty to Beca since way before Barden and definitely way before this dumb Trebles/Bellas rivalry. Your secret's safe with me."

Aubrey scrutinized him closely before nodded. "Alright." She readied herself, easing into her mission. "You've known Beca for a long time, right? You know her pretty well?"

"Beca and I have been friends since we were kids," Jesse affirmed. "I think aside from her family, no one knows her as well as I do."

Aubrey grunted. "And was she as obstinate and infuriating as she is now?"

Jesse laughed. At the look on Aubrey's face, he waved a hand. "No, I'm not laughing at you."

Aubrey huffed indignantly.

"No, really, I'm not," he promised. Jesse shook his head. "You think it's hard trying to figure her out now? When she's already an adult and secure in who she is? How about trying to do so when she was a kid and still trying to pin down her identity."

Aubrey absorbed that for a long moment. "So how _did_ you figure her out?"

Jesse smiled fondly as he shrugged. "Look, Beca Mitchell is infinitely complicated," he remarked. "To define her is like trying to catch air. You just accept that it's there and it exists but you can't cup it in your hand and show it to people. It's same thing with Beca. Her mind works differently, and she doesn't conduct herself like other girls. You just have to go with it."

Aubrey nodded slowly. "I guess it's just hard to see her as this famous music producer," she admitted. "I mean, it's…" she struggled to find a fitting description, finally settling with the succinct, "_Beca_."

Jesse nodded. "For sure. That's kind of the cool thing about her. There are certain people that you know are famous because they play up the whole celebrity thing. With Beca, it's different. DJ Lady B and Beca Mitchell are two very separate entities."

Aubrey huffed out her exasperation. "Okay, I get that. Maybe I just can't get past Beca Mitchell to get to DJ Lady B."

Jesse thought about that for a long moment. He could understand that dilemma; he had gone through the same thing. Jesse perked up with an idea. "You know what? You should watch _The Breakfast Club_," he suggested.

Aubrey's head tilted at the strange request. "Aca-scuse me?"

"Just trust me," Jesse implored her. "Watch the ending of _The Breakfast Club_. Then Beca will make a lot more sense to you."

It was an odd request, but Aubrey found herself nodding in acquiescence. She wasn't quite sure what the John Hughes classic had to do with Beca Mitchell, but with the way Jesse was gazing at her with barely-contained enthusiasm with a glint of self-satisfaction, she did something she had never, ever done before.

She went in with blind faith.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Aubrey wasn't quite sure _why_ she obliged Jesse, but she did. Hours later in the comfort of her room, propped up on her pillows, her laptop on her knees. The young faces forever preserved in time of Molly Ringwald, Ally Sheedy, Emilio Estevez, Judd Nelson, and Anthony Michael Hall stared at her from her screen.

She watched a young Anthony Michael Hall, playing his immortal character of Brian Johnson, sitting alone at the long table, shoulders hunched to his ears, eyes gazing out into space. The pencil in his hand wiggled idly as he contemplated the words to put down on the lined paper. She could see the thoughts whirling through his head. This was his chance to make a lasting impression on Mr. Vernon, his one chance to use his brains in a rare moment of rebellion.

Aubrey straightened as Mr. Vernon strode into the library, picking up the letter Brian wrote. Aubrey's head tilted as the voiceover recited the words on the paper.

* * *

_Dear Mr. Vernon:_

_We accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong, but we think you're crazy to make us write an essay telling you who we think we are. You see us as you want to see us... In the simplest terms and the most convenient definitions. But what we found out is that each one of us is a brain and an athlete and a basket case. A princess and a criminal._

_Does that answer your question?_

_Sincerely yours, _

_The Breakfast Club_

* * *

Aubrey thought about that line.

"_**You see us as you want to see us... In the simplest terms and the most convenient definitions."**_

It stuck with her. That notion niggled at her mind, worming through the crevices.

The simplest terms.

The most convenient of definitions.

Aubrey leaned back against her pillows, thinking about that for a moment. She understood why Jesse told her to watch the film.

The simplest terms.

The most convenient of definitions.

Yup, that was her perception of Beca since the beginning. She remembered talking with Chloe that first day at the activities fair. When Chloe had pointed out Beca for an audition, Aubrey had looked, and what she found, she had immediately judged.

As she set her sights on Chloe's prospect, all Aubrey could see was the girl's careless slouch, the heavily lined eyes, the tattoos crawling up and down her arms, and the piercings lining the shell of her ears. The rakish half-smirk aggravated her on principle. The devil-may-care attitude, barely tempered with quick wit, conveyed such disdain towards the Bellas and a cappella that Aubrey couldn't help but rise up in defense for her beloved group and traditional way of thinking. Beca's lackadaisical approach and demeanor had raised Aubrey's hackles from the beginning and had placed Beca firmly in the antagonist category in the greater scheme of things. Regardless of what Beca said, Aubrey treated it like a challenge. It was just the way things were.

In the simplest of terms, Beca Mitchell was 'the alt girl'. In the most convenient of definitions, Beca was their rebel-without-a-cause, the girl who disdained the Bella tradition and wasn't afraid to say so.

And that was all Aubrey could see her as.

To be honest, none of the new Bellas fit. Had Margo been around, every single one of the new girls would have been picked apart one way or the other. However, the other girls could be wrestled, shoved, cajoled and wrangled into the nice, little Bella box. Beca, on the other hand, adamantly and vocally refused to be shoved into their nice box, crossing her arms like a petulant, tenacious child and shaking her head in obstinacy. Aubrey wouldn't have doubted that Beca probably would have kicked the Bella box for spite had she really pushed for the DJ to 'be' a Bella. It was that derision of their tradition that had driven Aubrey to see Beca in that confrontational light. And that lack of respect for the Bella way was what irked Aubrey the most.

Aubrey didn't like disorder. And Beca Mitchell was the epitome of uncontrollable chaos.

She returned her attention back to the movie, watching as John Bender sauntered across the football field, one fist thrust over his head in triumph as the Simple Minds' song sounded over the credits.

_Don't you forget about me.  
Don't you forget about me…_

Aubrey shot straight up, breathing out in delight. "That's it…" She fumbled for her phone, scrolling through her contacts until she found the right name.

"Beca Mitchell."

"Beca! I know what song we can use to tie it all together. It's perfect. Old school and nostalgic and absolutely perfect. The judges and the audience are going to love it. We can–"

"Seriously, woman?!" Beca growled when Aubrey had to pause and take a breath. "I appreciate that we're trying to work in blissful harmony and all, but I am not at your beck and call! You're not paying me to do this!"

"Fine!" Aubrey conceded with a pout. She thought for a moment, offering out a solution. "Can I stop by the studio?"

Beca sighed, knowing Aubrey had that tone that indicated she was not going to be denied. "Hang on." There was some unintelligible murmuring over the phone before Beca returned. "Yeah. Damon's gonna pick you up."

xxx-xxx-xxx

Aubrey forced her features into a façade of nonchalance. She tempered down the urge to swivel her head, taking in the lavish surroundings of the studio she was being ushered through. She had been in a recording studio before, but not one of this magnitude of extravagance. She tried not to peek into the different rooms, but she nearly fainted at the caliber of talent she spotted in some of the different booths.

Damon brought her to the very last room in the corner and poked his head in. Moments later, the door opened and Beca stepped out.

The DJ looked even more disheveled than usual, her unkempt hair poking through a slouchy beanie, her makeup doing nothing to hide the bags beneath her eyes. Beca seemed to vibrate where she stood, shifting anxiously from foot to foot.

Aubrey frowned as she took in the constant wringing of Beca's hands, the fingers constantly tugging or twisting the various pieces of jewelry adorning her wrists and fingers. "You're twitchy…"

Beca shrugged, wringing her hands. "One too many Red Bulls."

"That doesn't sound healthy," Aubrey remarked.

"It's not," Beca answered blithely. "But it's a necessary evil." She tapped the side of her head. "The body needs to able to keep with the mind."

Aubrey nodded slowly, not quite sure she agreed with Beca's chosen method of synchronizing the two, but she shrugged it off.

"So, I have an idea what could be our central song," she began.

Beca nodded. "Sounds good. You'll have to wait though." She hitched a thumb back into the room. "I'm on a time crunch here, and we've got to get this done." She trailed off as the door opened, and her current artist stepped out.

Aubrey's eyes widened as she took in six-feet of nineties, boy band legend. His face had once dominated the walls of her childhood bedroom. The once iconic curly mop of hair was shorn down, and his baby face was now chiseled to manly planes and decorated with a fine dusting of scruff. Justin Timberlake was like a fine wine: he got better with age.

And he was currently standing right in front of her.

He turned his blue eyes to Beca, hitching a thumb towards the doors. "Hey, B, you mind if we take a second? I just got a call from the lady."

Beca smiled, nodding. "No, that's fine. We'll take five. Do me a favor and tell everyone?"

He nodded shortly, thumbs already working on the screen of his phone. "That works."

Aubrey's eyes followed his exit, mouth opening and closing soundlessly. "That was…"

Beca chuckled and nodded in response.

"Ohmigod, he's like my ultimate celebrity crush," Aubrey breathed out. "From way back to his 'N Sync days." She bit her lip. "Would it be, like, weird if I asked if I could touch him?"

Beca smirked. "Just a little bit. But I'm sure he's heard weirder." She crossed her arms, canting her head insolently. "Believe me now?"

Aubrey's mouth opened and closed as she fought for words. Finally, she exhaled. "Geeze, you were serious."

"Dixie Chick serious," Beca drawled in confirmation. She hitched a thumb towards the booth. "You want to hang around and see how it all works?"

"Really?"

Beca nodded with a shrug. "Sure. Why not?"

"I won't be in the way?"

A flash of emotion hit Beca's features before they disappeared behind her normal half-smirk. She shook her head. "Nope." A twinkle flashed through her eyes. "Just keep the squealing to a minimum though."

Aubrey's nose tilted upward. "I'll have you know, Beca, Aubrey Posen does not squeal."

Beca merely smirked as Justin reappeared, tucking his phone back into his jeans. He grinned as he came to a stop in front of Beca.

"We ready?"

Beca nodded in concession. "Ready when you are." Beca gestured to the senior Bella practically vibrating beside her. "Justin, this is my friend Aubrey, she's gonna hang around and see how we work if that's alright."

Justin nodded. "That's fine with me." He turned his heart-stopping grin to the blonde. "Hi, nice to meet you."

Aubrey merely squeaked, tittering girlishly, unable to string together a succession of words for a coherent sentence. As Justin disappeared back into the room, Aubrey whirled to Beca, bouncing on the balls of her feet, hands waving in front of her face. "Ohmigod, he said hi to me!"

Beca's eyebrow shot skyward at the display. "You were saying?"

"Shut up."

xxx-xxx-xxx

Seeing Beca work was a revelation. The moment she returned to the control room, she had ignored Aubrey, focusing all of her attention to the artist in the booth. The petite brunette completely commanded the room, effortlessly instructing her co-workers and the boy band legend. What shocked Aubrey the most, however, was the manner she treated one Justin Timberlake. For the most part, Beca was playfully cajoling, but there were times she was very much quick to challenge her fellow Grammy-winner.

"_C'mon, Timberlake, don't be a wimp! Reach for that high note!"_

"_No, I like that tempo, but watch your falsetto. You want to keep it steady without too much vibrato. Stay mellow."_

"_Yikes. Yeah, diction sucked on that one. I think you slurred every other word."_

Justin slapped a palm over his heart, staggering slightly. "Rough, B!"

Beca chuckled, her arms crossed over the mixing board. She shrugged. "Just trying to make you sound good, Pretty Boy. They're only distracted by your looks until you open your mouth."

A laugh sounded from inside the booth, and Aubrey was astonished when he nodded with a wide grin.

"Hey, can't argue with that."

Clearing his throat and taking a swig of water, he tried again, and his smooth, silky voice soared through the sound system.

Aubrey watched Beca. Her eyes were down to the mixing board, and her head was bobbing to the beat. She seemed to be listening intently, fingers fiddling with various dials and levers to produce the best possible sound.

As the last notes faded, Beca cut the tape and waved him back into the control booth. Rolling over to the computer she layered the vocals with the music. A couple of keystrokes and a click of her mouse, and the song boomed out from the speakers.

It was a hypnotizing effect as the entire room began to unconsciously bob to the beat. Aubrey heard some of the chatter around the room, all enthusiastic and proclaiming the track perfect. Even Justin looked thrilled at what he was hearing. Aubrey's eyes fell on Beca. In contrast to the enthusiastic atmosphere, the brunette was frowning, her arms crossed, one hand cupping her chin, the fingers of her free hand tapping anxiously against the surface of the desktop.

"No."

Beca's single, uttered word cut through the jubilation, and the entire room paused. Justin sidled up to her, his head tilted in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Beca's head shook slowly back and forth. "There's something missing."

Aubrey's jaw dropped at the blatant challenge. To her surprise, Justin simply nodded.

"Okay, so what is it?"

Beca frowned. "I don't know," she admitted. Rolling to the mixing board, she grabbed her headphones, plugging them into the jack. Slipping the cups over her ears, she grabbed a notepad, playing the track.

Everyone waited silently as Beca listened, her chin cupped in her hand, eyes fixated on the screen. Idly, her pen tapped against her notepad to the beat. Aubrey surveyed her carefully. Beca's stare was unwavering, watching something on the screen, but at the same time, her ears were tuned intensely into the intricacies of the track.

Beca grunted, her head nodding in quiet triumph. She tapped a couple of commands into the program, her mouse clicking rapidly. Unplugging her earphones, she replayed the song. The change was subtle, but to the trained ears of all in the room, it made a world of a difference.

Beca smirked, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest. "Now _that_ sounds like an RIAA certification waiting to happen."

She squeaked as a muscular arm was slung around her neck, and a large palm tousled her hair. "And that is why you're the best, Mitchell." He clapped a hand on her shoulder. "We good?"

Beca checked over their work, nodding absently. "Yeah. We're good."

Justin nodded, motioning to his posse. "Awesome. I'll call you about the loose ends and things?"

Beca nodded, following him out, ushering him to the front door of the studio. She turned back to Aubrey, motioning that she would be a moment before disappearing out the doors.

Aubrey stayed in contemplative silence, her mouth twisted into a thoughtful frown. She started in surprise as a shadow fell upon her, and she glanced up to find a pretty, auburn-haired woman smiling down at her.

"We never got a chance to meet," the woman commented. She stuck out a hand. "Julianne Avery. You can call me Jules. I'm Beca's co-producer."

Aubrey accepted the offering with a firm shake. "Aubrey Posen."

Jules nodded slowly. "The captain."

Aubrey hefted a sigh. "The captain," she affirmed. "I see Beca's told you about me."

Again, Jules nodded. "Yep," she popped the 'p' with a grin. "Although, I'm pretty sure she joined your little group just to get into your ginger buddy's pants." Jules shrugged. "Hell, if some redhead hottie shanghai-ed my shower in her nudie pants, I'd follow her off a cliff, no questions asked."

"Aca-ugh!" Aubrey groaned her distaste, squeezing her eyes shut. Her hands flapped through the air in consternation. "I really don't need that visual." Opening her eyes, she deflated slightly. "I don't feel very much like a captain," she mused.

Jules shrugged. "Some people would say that the best ones don't and shouldn't." She cast a glance over to the despondent blonde. "Going for help doesn't make you a bad leader, you know."

"I was supposed to have all the answers," Aubrey refuted.

"So you don't," Jules countered. "Whatev. So you find someone who does."

"Does Beca?" Aubrey asked.

Jules grinned. "Most of the time, yeah," she remarked. "And when she doesn't, that's what I'm here for." Jules sensed Aubrey's hesitation and gestured around at the studio. "C'mon, Blondie," she entreated. "How can you doubt that idea when you see all of this? When you've heard what she's able to do?"

"I guess I just don't _know_ Beca," Aubrey admitted. "She's such a mystery to me that it's hard to wrap my head around her sometimes."

Jules smirked. "Yeah, she really is. Sometimes even to the people who know her best."

Aubrey nodded. "And just seeing everything and actually experiencing it." She shrugged. "I don't know what I think."

"It's understandable," Jules sympathized. "Look, basically what you need to know is that with Beca, music is something beyond a passion," she explained. "It's like the essence of her very being. Her understanding of how it works is just…" Jules paused, waving her hand through the air, "_beyond_ everyone else's."

Aubrey cocked her head. "So if she's got such a feel for music, why does she have you and everyone else working with her?"

Jules grinned. "Because there is no such thing as an absolute," she remarked. "_Especially_ when it comes to music. Things are until they aren't, and they aren't until they are." She nudged Aubrey with a smile. "The sooner you understand that, the better off you'll be."

An elegant blonde eyebrow arched upward. "Well, that's enlightening and everything, Jules, but that doesn't help me comprehend Beca any better."

Jules's grin turned enigmatic. "Maybe that's your problem, Blondie," she remarked. "Maybe you're expecting her to fill this persona you've got in your coiffed little head. Stop thinking in black and white and start thinking in grays."

Aubrey frowned as she absorbed that notion.

Jules nudged her gently, smirking knowingly. "Good luck, Blondie."

xxx-xxx-xxx

Aubrey looked deep in thought as Jules departed. Beca entered the control room and began packing up her things. She glanced over to the blonde who seemed to be contemplating something seriously. The DJ smirked, leaning against the mixing board, arms crossed over her shoulder.

"What's on your mind?"

Aubrey frowned, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I don't know," she began slowly. She looked past Beca into the booth where Justin Timberlake once stood, laying down bonus tracks for his new album.

"I guess I'm just now getting a scope of _how_ famous you are."

Beca chuckled, shrugging blithely. "Being famous is just an unfortunate byproduct."

Aubrey's eyebrows drew together. "'Unfortunate'?" she asked.

Beca nodded. "It's all about the music for me," she explained. "Sure, it's a rush to work with the people I do, but with the fame comes the aggravation as well." Beca smirked. "Being followed by paparazzi isn't all that it's cracked up to be."

"So why do it?"

Beca grinned. "Because music is everything." She ran a loving hand over the mixing board. "It's my passion, my drive, and my purpose." She pointed up to her brain. "Everything that runs through here is beats, rhythms, verses, and choruses." She gestured to her ear. "Everything that these pick up are just another sound bite to me, another effect to use." Beca shrugged. "Some people just hear music. It goes beyond that for me."

Aubrey had never heard such a profound connection to music or even such eloquence from Beca. Sure, she loved a cappella and what it could do for her, but to have _that_ sort of passion for music seemed so much beyond her. Not only that, but the completely instinctive manner by which Beca worked. She didn't over-think her choices, she simply knew they were the right ones. That was something Aubrey couldn't connect with. Everything she had done always had been analyzed and thought over until she definitively concluded it was the correct choice.

Beca grinned widely, casting a fond glance around the control booth and into the recording booth. "But still," she commented. "I can't help but be completely in awe at this whole thing." She laughed. "I just wanted to make music, you know? Just wanted to give the world a soundtrack to life."

Aubrey absorbed that for a moment. "So if you had it your way?"

"If I had it my way…" Beca huffed out a chuckle. "Man, if I had it my way, people would just appreciate my music." She waved a hand. "No pomp and circumstance, no obsessive fascination about my everyday life. Just the music."

Aubrey surveyed her for a long while. "But it says something, doesn't it?" she questioned. "That you're able to affect people that much that they are so intrigued by your life? That you're able to inspire that much fanaticism to virtual strangers just through music?"

"Of course," Beca agreed. "And that's just humbling. But I don't _need_ all of that," she explained. "The Grammys, the fame, that's all nice, but I would still be happy if I was just…playing records on the night shift at WBUJ or even stacking CDs with Jesse."

"Why, though?" Aubrey ventured. "Most people go into this business for the fame and the fortune. Why is it just about the music for you?"

Beca shrugged. "Because without music, my life doesn't really have a purpose," she admitted honestly. "I'm not really good at anything else. But this…" Beca craned her head, looking around. "_This_ I'm good at." Beca's expression grew thoughtful.

"I guess it's kind of a 'the chicken or the egg?' sort of deal," Beca explained. At Aubrey's look of confusion, she clarified, "What comes first." Beca shrugged. "You know, did my passion nurture my skill or did my skill fuel my passion?"

"So what is it?" Aubrey asked, curious of the response. She knew that Beca's answer would be very telling.

"The first one," Beca replied, a nostalgic glint to her dark, navy blue eyes. "I loved music long before I figured out what I could do with it."

Aubrey's mouth tilted downward and to the side, her brows furrowing together. Beca had seen that expression before; it was the one Aubrey sported following her audition. The one that indicated Aubrey was indecisive about exactly what she should think.

Beca nudged the blonde, bringing Aubrey's attention back to her. "But still…_Justin Timberlake_?" She smiled – a honest-to-goodness smile that Aubrey had only really seen directed Chloe's way – and tilted her head skyward, shoulders shaking in barely contained mirth. "That's pretty cool, right?"

Aubrey laughed, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, Beca," she responded. "That's pretty fuckin' cool."

"Aca-fuckin' cool?" Beca ventured.

"Aca-fuckin' cool," Aubrey agreed.

It was a long, arduous battle, but in that moment, Aubrey Posen _got_ Beca Mitchell. Jesse was both right and wrong. Beca was infinitely complicated, but that complexity could be boiled down to one singular concept: music. And in that zealous fervor, that ardent passion for music, Beca Mitchell was infinitely simple. She needed music to get by.

And _that_ Aubrey Posen could understand.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Chloe looked at the relatively non-descript door in front of her. There once was a time when she would simply barge in, announcing her presence without much preamble. Now, it certainly wasn't her place to be able to do so.

Raising her fist, she knocked sharply, waiting for an answer. She recoiled in surprise, however, when a familiar face greeted her but not the one she was expecting.

"Hi."

Jules' gray-green eyes swept up and down her body. Chloe felt as though she had been suddenly thrust under a microscope, she was under that minute level of scrutiny. "Hi."

Yup, that was quite the chilly tone. "Can I come in?" she ventured meekly.

"Depends," Jules drawled, her eyes sparkling intently. "You gonna take a sledgehammer to Beca's heart again?"

Chloe drew in a deep breath, throwing out a weak smile. She ducked her head, shaking it slowly. "No." She sighed. "It was a complicated situation."

Jules crossed her arms, one eyebrow cocked in challenge. "Well, let me make it uncomplicated for you, then." Her gaze hardened. "I'm having a very hard time not wanting to fuck you up right here and now. I told you not to mess with Beca, and you did just that."

Chloe worried her lip. She clutched her bag to her side, fingers tugging anxiously at the ends of her hair. "Look, Jules, I've apologized to Beca, but that's not enough to make it right. I know that." Her big, blue eyes gazed imploringly up at Beca's co-producer. "I just want to make it right."

Jules tilted her chin in an obvious dare. "Yeah? Why?"

Chloe's lips parted, and a helpless sigh burst forth. It was almost an incredulous chuckle. "Because it's Beca."

Jules faltered, and her lips twitched. Yeah, she knew what Chloe meant. Still, the reality was there. Chloe hurt Beca, simple as that. As Beca's best friend, it was her job to look out for Beca.

Still…

Jules grunted in dissatisfaction, and she stepped aside, letting Chloe in. Arms still crossed, she led Chloe to the couch. "It was still a shitty thing to do, Red."

Chloe nodded morosely. "Yeah."

"You messed her up pretty bad."

Again Chloe nodded.

Jules tilted her head. "So why do it?"

Chloe took a deep breath. "You ever have something in your past affect you so profoundly that you can't help but have it influence every day of your life after that?"

Jules shook her head, her expression shifting to curiosity.

"Well, I have." Chloe ducked her head. "And for a long time, I blamed myself for what happened."

"So what changed?"

Chloe sighed. "Turns out I've been holding my guilt for no reason." Chloe ran her hands down her jeans. "A lot of what happened between Beca and I was because of that guilt. I just want her friendship back."

"Just her friendship?"

"I'd be lying if that was my only motivation," Chloe admitted. "But I'll take that to start."

Jules nodded slowly. Her gray-green eyes glinted with suspicion. "Look, Red, I'm gonna say it straight up," Jules stated bluntly. "I don't like this. I don't like the idea of you worming your way back into Beca's life just so you can destroy her again." As Chloe opened her mouth to protest, Jules held up a hand, staving off whatever comment the redhead had ready.

"No, you don't get to try and defend yourself. Your word means jackshit right now. You weren't there when we had to pick the pieces up from a very broken, very confused Beca Mitchell." Jules extended out a finger, eyes flaring with intent. "So let me tell you this right now. You get this second chance because apparently Beca wants to give you one, but you do not get to breeze in and out of Beca's life as you please. I will not let you."

Beca poked her head into the living room, drawn to the sound of the conversation wafting into the second bedroom. She entered just in time to hear the tail end of Jules's sentence. Casting a curious glance to the recipient of such a threat, Beca tensed when her eyes landed on Chloe. She sidled up behind Jules, laying a calming hand on her co-producer's shoulder.

"Easy there, Tiger. Retract the claws. I'll take it from here."

Jules leveled a significant look at Beca. At the DJ's nod, Jules grunted, hitching her thumb towards the door. "I'm gonna go hang out with Damon."

As Beca's co-producer let herself out, Beca turned her attention back to the senior Bella. "What are you doing here?"

Chloe fiddled with the ring on her thumb. "I told you I was going to stop by," she remarked.

"Yeah," Beca drawled. "Didn't know it was going to be today." She cocked her head. "You really that eager to see me?"

"Eager to make it right," Chloe corrected.

"Huh," Beca hummed. "So how are you going to do that?"

Chloe sighed heavily, her shoulders rising than falling. "You know, I don't know."

Beca cocked her head. "What do you mean?"

"Part of me wants to beg for you to take me back, the other part of me wants to just keep apologizing until you're my friend again."

Beca's eyes landed on hers, steady and unwavering. "Yeah, well part of me wants to forget you ever existed in my life, the other part of me knows my life sucks without you, so…" Beca shrugged. "Aren't we at an impasse?"

"So what _is_ it going to take?" Chloe ventured.

"I'm not sure," Beca sighed.

"Because I'm willing to do it, you know," Chloe murmured, scooting closer. Her gaze was penetrating, imploring. Tentatively, she reached out, laying her hand over Beca's, delighting in the fact the DJ didn't pull away.

"I don't care how long it takes or what I have to do," she insisted. "I will absolutely do it. No more secrets. Just complete honesty."

Beca's eyes met hers once again, a magnet to metal. She seemed to war with herself, her mouth opening and closing, the words fighting forward.

"I slept with someone in Cabo," she blurted out. Her face flushed. "'Cause, you know, we're being honest and all."

Chloe looked thrown. "Oh."

Beca's eyes conveniently found her Chuck Taylors utterly fascinating. "I…uh…was trying to forget about you."

Chloe's breath flew from her lungs in a ragged exhale. "Did you?"

Beca's expression reflected the pain she still very clearly felt. Slowly, her head shook slowly from side to side. "No." Her voice was a whisper. "I couldn't."

"You couldn't?" Chloe dared to ask.

"I tried," Beca admitted. She let out a bark of laughter. "God knows I tried." Beca looked down to where Chloe's hand still covered hers. Almost on its own volition, her grip shifted, intertwining their fingers.

It felt familiar.

Comfortable.

But odd.

Chloe swallowed hard, her eyes also on their joined hands. "So what now?"

Beca huffed out another disbelieving laugh. "I don't know." She shook her head. "I really don't know."

_Aaaaand done! I hoped you liked this one, guys. Just wanted to give you a little change of pace for sure. Don't worry, our girls are starting to reconnect, but we definitely have to do this right! The songs used in this chapter are "Stand" by Rascal Flatts and "Time after Time" by Cyndi Lauper. I hoped you guys liked hearing from CJ, it's her help and input that truly makes this fic amazing._

_Next chapter, we have Beca and Chloe taking the steps towards reconciliation. As I'm sure you can tell, we're heading towards the ending, but I promise it'll be just as great a journey as the one that got us here._

_As usual, thanks so much for the love you show this fic! We love hearing from you, and a special thanks to everyone who had fun with us during our Tumblr Q&A. We had a blast! As always, feel free to let us know what you think here, on Tumblr, or on Twitter. We both have the same handles on all three. I try to respond to all that come in, but some slip through the cracks! And with tax season these last couple of months, I've had little time to myself. But thanks so much for your patience!_

_Until next time!_

_*ISP and CJ_


	13. Chapter 13

_Alright, Stoners! We're winding down with these next few chapters. Chloe and Beca are getting some things out and putting things on the line. I hope you enjoy this installment, and the next one promises even more awesomeness for our ladies._

_Thanks as usual for the love! I truly, truly appreciate every little thing you guys do to show love to the story._

_And on that note, enjoy!_

* * *

CHAPTER 13

_Right from the start, you were a thief, you stole my heart  
And I, your willing victim  
I let you see the parts of me that weren't all that pretty  
And with every touch you fixed them_

_Now you've been talking in your sleep, oh-oh  
Things you never say to me, oh-oh  
Tell me that you've had enough  
Of our love, our love_

Beca could readily admit she was not the easiest person to deal with. Jules had once called her a tightly-wound bundle of a walking contradiction. Beca could not honestly find fault in that assertion.

After all, it was certainly the truth.

During the initial creation of her tracks and music, Beca's mind worked spastically as the jumbled mishmash of arbitrary sounds attempted to rearrange themselves into a working sequence of rhythm and beat. When it came to focusing on the track, however, Beca was single-minded, able to pick out the minutest detail that changed the course of the entire song.

It was quite the paradox.

Jules wasn't incorrect. Beca Mitchell was minute precision and irrepressible disarray wrapped in the same – if one were to listen to Aubrey – infuriating package. It made her irrefutably effective and brilliant as a music producer.

Outside of the professional spectrum, it made her difficult to deal with.

There hadn't been many people who were able to navigate around all the complex aspects of Beca's personality long enough to enter in a lasting romantic relationship.

Until Chloe.

To her everlasting chagrin, Chloe Beale seemed to be the exception to every understood absolute in Beca's life.

xxx-xxx-xxx

They sat for a moment, merely reveling in each other's presence. It was comfortable, but tension licked at the edges.

Chloe glanced down at their hands, eyes peering up at Beca through her lashes. She mustered up the courage to ask, "Who was it?"

Beca didn't answer for a moment before she shrugged. "Does it matter?"

Chloe's breath caught in her throat. Evasion was not a good sign. It reinforced Paige's tacit implication. Chloe stiffened, bracing herself for her biggest fear realized. Still, she reined herself in to convey impassivity. Chloe returned the shrug. "Kind of."

Beca's nostrils flared as she let out a deep breath. Her mouth tightened, and she looked away.

"Scarlett Stone," she finally answered.

Chloe's mouth dropped open in surprise. That certainly wasn't the answer she expected. "Scarlett Stone?" she repeated.

"Yeah," Beca affirmed. "She's–"

"No, I know who she is," Chloe interjected. "And she's the only person?"

Beca nodded slowly. "Yeah. It was a moment of drunken weakness."

Chloe's face flushed. "So not Paige?"

Beca recoiled. "God, no! Seriously?!" Her expression twisted in distaste. "Geeze, Chloe, who do you think I am?"

"It's valid," Chloe defended. "You said you wanted to forget about me!"

"Yeah, I wanted to _forget_ you! " Beca shuddered. "Not completely tear you apart. That would be a low blow even for me…"

Chloe shot out a wavering smile, trying to insert some levity into their conversation. "Is that a short joke?"

"Funny." Beca cocked her head. "Why would you think I slept with Paige?" Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "She wasn't even in Cabo."

Chloe blanched, her breath stuttering to a halt in her lungs. "She wasn't?"

Beca shook her head. "No. Cade said she was shooting scenes for _On the Hill_ all last week." Beca frowned. "Where did you get that idea?"

"I…may have run into Paige right before the Bella meeting," Chloe admitted. "And she insinuated…"

"That she slept with me?" Beca huffed out a disbelieving sigh. "And you believed her?"

"I didn't know what to think," Chloe defended.

"I would think you'd at least have faith in me," Beca retorted, her hackles rising at the implication.

"I have faith in a lot of things," Chloe shot back. "None of which involve the integrity of Paige Daniels. I don't doubt for a second that she would take advantage of you in a highly compromised state just for the reason that she would be able to rub it in my face."

Beca deflated, and her mouth quirked upward. Her eyes softened as she turned her gaze to Chloe. "You always think the best of me, don't you?"

Chloe shrugged. "Like I said, until you prove otherwise, I have no reason not to."

Beca sobered. "But I hurt you."

"And I hurt you first," Chloe returned. It was a matter-of-fact sort of tone. Chloe ducked her head. "I don't think of you as less of a person, Beca."

Beca nodded slowly. Her grip tightened on Chloe's hand. "Look, Chloe, I'm just tired…"

"Of what?" Frankly she was a bit scared of Beca's answer.

Beca huffed out a chuckle. "Of being mad at you," she replied. "It's exhausting."

Chloe didn't want to laugh, so she smiled. Her heart fluttered when Beca returned her smile.

Beca's head sagged backward, and she nodded. "Look," she breathed out. "I'm done being angry. It's pretty obvious that my life isn't as awesome when you're not in it." She scoffed to herself, shaking her head. "You know, Scarlett was in this relationship, an on-off sort of thing. She said it wasn't easy to just walk away. I didn't get it before, but I do now." Beca sighed again. "I'm not saying that I'm ready to just jump into a relationship, but I'm saying that…" Beca swallowed hard.

"I'm saying that I can't…_be_ without you."

Chloe surveyed her for a moment. There was a lot revealed in that statement, and Chloe caught onto the underlying connotation in the barely discernable emphasis. Her eyes scanned over Beca, taking in the posture and features of the DJ. There was an almost indiscernible air about the smaller brunette. All Chloe knew was that she wanted to make Beca happy again. Chloe nodded determinedly. "I accept."

Beca's brows furrowed. "Ac–" She cleared her throat, catching herself just in time. "Excuse me?"

"Challenge accepted," Chloe repeated.

Beca's head tilted. "I don't remember throwing down a challenge."

Chloe smiled that infectious grin, eyes sparkling with intent. "Sure you did," she remarked. "You said you're not ready to jump into a relationship, so I'm going to make it my mission that you become comfortable to the idea again."

Beca honestly didn't have a response to that assertion. Her mouth dropped open, and she turned her eyes to Chloe.

Chloe scooted forward. Beca's eyes widened, and another time would have Chloe convulsing with giggles at the deer-in-the-headlights expression adorning Beca's face. Still, she inched closer with the caution. Her neck craned forward, lips pressing gently against Beca's forehead.

"Like it or not, Mitchell, I'm going to win you over." Chloe considered her point. "Again."

Frankly, Beca was equal parts thrilled and terrified at the prospect.

xxx-xxx-xxx

There was an air of anticipation during the days following Chloe's bold assertion. Beca was unsure of how Chloe would go about fulfilling her promise, but she was pleasantly surprised when the redhead defied expectation. Beca had fully expected Chloe to come out strong and aggressive, both guns drawn, both barrels blazing. What she found, however, was that Chloe was taking things slow, giving them both a chance to reacquaint themselves with one another and the idea that their relationship was heading towards something more definable.

At the moment though, any talk of what their relationship was halted in favor of more pressing issues. Namely, Nationals and their setlist.

Aubrey, Chloe, and Beca had crammed themselves in a booth in The Den, one of the local campus bars dotting the perimeter of the university. The tabletop held a pitcher of beer surrounded by notebook paper filled with scribbles.

"Okay, so we start with 'Price Tag', then transition to 'Don't You (Forget About Me)', and we end with "Give Me Everything'," Beca recited.

Chloe and Aubrey voiced their agreements. Aubrey tapped the first set of sheet music. "I think it would be a good idea to keep 'Price Tag' very raw," she commented. "At least for the first few bars.

"Maybe even insert a pause before Lilly starts," Chloe added.

Aubrey nodded. "That's a good idea. We can build suspense and let the shock sink in, so to speak."

Beca also nodded, making a note in their performance notes. She braced an elbow against the surface of the table, the end of her pen tapping against her lips. She glanced to Aubrey.

"Okay, have you wrapped your head around the idea of Cynthia Rose rapping during 'Give Me Everything' or are we continuing the discussion?"

Aubrey sighed. "Yes, especially with the rest of the arrangement around it." She hitched her head to the redhead. "Chloe opened my eyes to the merits."

"It's not compromising our musicality?" Beca teased.

Aubrey rolled her eyes. "I suppose imploring you to ease me into your methods is a moot point?"

Beca shrugged. "Well…" She left the response unvoiced. Beca grinned. "I appreciate the alliteration, though." She winked, taking a drink. Beca reached out and grabbed the pitcher, topping off her glass and Chloe's. Craning her head up, she signaled their waitress for a refill, settling back on her side of the booth.

Aubrey grasped her wine glass, wrinkling her nose. "I have no idea how you guys can drink that stuff."

Beca laughed, nodding to Aubrey's choice of alcohol. "We're not the ones sticking out like a sore thumb, Posen. You don't drink wine at a college bar. Even _I_ know that!"

Aubrey narrowed her eyes at the DJ, hitching her chin in a blatant challenge. "I'll have you know, Mitchell, that Posens are the epitome of poise and class."

"Except when projectile vomiting," Beca deadpanned.

Aubrey mock-gasped, throwing her balled-up napkin at Beca's smugly smirking face.

"Now this is a pretty sight!"

All three glanced up as Jesse bounced over to their booth, a wide smile on his face. He nudged Beca's legs sprawled over the seat, sliding in beside her. "What's up, ladies?"

"Whoa, hey!" Beca protested, shifting her position to accommodate their company. "No interlopers in the war room!"

Jesse scoffed. "Please. Why would I be so obvious if I was trying to spy?" He glanced over his shoulder, waving down a waitress for a soda and some cheese nuggets.

Beca cast a glance to the blonde senior, an eyebrow arched as Aubrey merely sipped her wine. "What, no objection from you?"

Aubrey shrugged, exchanging a meaningful look with the Treble. "I have the utmost faith Jesse will keep this in complete confidence."

Jesse grinned, shaking his head. "I appreciate that Aubrey. It seems that _some people_," he hitched his head in Aubrey's direction, "have no doubts about my integrity. Which is more than I can say about…" he leveled a significant look Beca's way, "_other_ people."

Beca stuck her tongue out at the other boy. "Shove it, Evans."

Jesse laughed as his order was placed in front of him. He dipped the breaded mozzarella nugget into ranch dressing. "So did you guys hear?"

Beca took a drink of her beer, head tilting curiously. "Hear what?"

He hunkered forward, hands bracketing his glass of soda. "Bumper bailed."

Aubrey's eyebrow arched skyward. "Bailed?"

Jesse's head bobbed emphatically. "He's on his way to LA as we speak. Apparently, he got a gig singing backup for John Mayer."

"That's random," Chloe commented with a frown. "Bumper's famous in the ICCA world but not that famous. He must have some serious connections to score a gig like that."

Jesse shrugged. "He said Mayer's assistant contacted him."

"Yeah, but still," Chloe persisted. "We know Bumper's got random people he knows who are fairly important in the a cappella world, but this seems to be a little beyond his radar."

It seemed as though three of the four occupants of the booth all reached the same conclusion at the exact same time. All eyes turned to Beca. The DJ didn't seem to notice, more concerned with draining the beer in her glass. She glanced up as she felt the gazes on her.

"What?" Beca looked at each expectant expression in turn. "Don't look at me!"

Chloe voiced the unspoken question for the group. "You _didn't_ have anything to do with that, do you?"

Beca snorted. "Dude, no! Why the hell would I willingly inflict Bumper Allen on the music industry? I'm not about to risk my professional reputation just to get that moron out of our hair." She waved to the notebook paper strewn over the table. "Besides we don't need that sort of tactic. This performance is going to blow the Trebles and any other competition of the water."

Aubrey nodded to Jesse. "So what are you going to do?"

Jesse canted his head, swallowing a handful of cheese nuggets. "Well, we have to replace him, obviously."

"With whom?"

Jesse grinned. "The only person that makes sense." Jesse hefted a huge sigh. His three companions nodded, knowing exactly to whom he was referring. "I've just got to make sure he doesn't get weird."

"Benji's not weird, he's unique," Beca chastised. "He's quirky!"

"I know that," Jesse defended. "And now that Bumper's gone, we can actually bring him in."

"That's gonna be a huge get," Aubrey complimented. She nudged Chloe. "Do you remember his audition?"

"I sure do." Chloe smiled. "He's got such a stunning voice, I still don't know why Bumper never let him join the Trebles."

"He wasn't cool enough," Jesse mumbled.

"Bumper should not be setting standards for cool," Beca deadpanned. "No one ever designated as cool has endorsed their own brand of sport sandals."

"Oh, but headphones are acceptable?" Chloe teased.

"Uh, yes," Beca insisted. "Those are the _epitome_ of cool. Musical necessity combined with the bonus of an amazing accessory."

Aubrey rolled her eyes at the banter between the two. Inwardly, she smiled, glad that things were returning to normal. She glanced over to Jesse. "You would think Bumper would have been shrewd enough to pick up Benji knowing how great of a voice he had," she remarked.

"Yeah, you would think that," Jesse agreed. "But you know Bumper…" Aubrey nodded. For as negligently as Bumper seemed to lead the Trebles, there were a number of things for which he was completely unyielding. And the Trebles' image was one of those things.

Jesse leaned back against the booth, his arms stretched across the back. A wide smile bloomed on his face.

"I'll tell you guys one thing," he commented. "I have a feeling this Nationals is going to one to remember."

His female companions nodded their agreement.

xxx-xxx-xxx

"That was nice," Chloe commented as they headed back towards campus after stopping by the local Chinese food restaurant for takeout.

"What was?" Beca mumbled around her bite of egg roll.

"Collaborating like that," Chloe answered. She smiled. "You and Aubrey work well together."

Beca returned the smile. "Hey, give me some credit here," she implored. "I disagreed with the _direction_ that she was taking the group, not necessarily the way she ran it."

Chloe cocked a disbelieving eyebrow. "Really?"

Beca nodded. "Oh yeah. Aubrey's dedication is pretty cool. While I questioned her methods, you can't deny that she's efficient. That's definitely important when managing a group like this." Beca pointed to herself. "Remember, I know what it's like. It's hard enough getting a _single_ artist to do what I ask of them. I can't imagine trying to do so with ten or so girls under my belt."

"It does get challenging," Chloe agreed.

"Exactly. More people, more opinions, and more egos to stroke." Beca smirked. "Look, I know Aubrey was hard to work with. She's pretty unyielding, but she gets the job done. Like it or not, every girl still followed the routine." She caught Chloe's pointed look of dissent. "Well, _initially_, the girls followed the routine."

"So you actually enjoyed butting heads with her on a daily basis?"

"I like _challenges_," Beca corrected. "You know that. No one can deny that Aubrey Posen is not a challenge."

"Is that what _I_ was?" Chloe questioned. "A challenge to you?"

Beca huffed out a snort. "Chloe, you are an anomaly in the best sense of the word."

Chloe's nose wrinkled. "You make me seem like a mutant."

Beca's eyebrows wiggled. "Kinky."

Chloe rolled her eyes, following Beca into the DJ's apartment. They passed Jules on her way out, and Beca's co-producer shot Chloe a warning look that she responded to with a nod. Beca looked between the two redheads as Jules exited.

"What was that about?"

Chloe sighed. "Well, you heard the tail end of it. Jules warned me that she isn't too pleased with the fact that I'm worming my way back into your life and I wasn't going to breeze in and out of your life as I pleased."

Beca shot a fond smile in the direction Jules departed. "She's like that. I don't think she has to worry, though."

"She doesn't," Chloe asserted.

"Good."

They eased down on the couch, passing cartons of takeout Chinese between them. The television blared with the latest gossip on some random entertainment channel. Chloe was humoring herself by getting the real inside scoop on the stories through Beca's familiarity with the various celebrities.

"True or false?" Chloe asked, gesturing to the screen that showed a news segment featuring one half of a celebrity supercouple and speculation that they could be expecting their first child.

"False." Beca snorted, rolling her eyes. "Baby daddy is Mysterious."

"The rapper who swears by his virginity?!" Chloe's mouth dropped open. "How do you know that?"

A curious expression appeared on Beca's face. "You don't want to know."

The innuendo was clear, and Chloe gaped. "Shut up! You did not."

"I so did." Beca shuddered. "It took me weeks to bleach that image from my consciousness."

"Does he know?" Chloe asked, eyes fixated on the still-shot of the happy couple wrapped up in an embrace on the red carpet.

Beca smirked. "If he doesn't, he will in nine months." She perked up. "Speaking of, I've got something you'd like."

Chloe cocked her head, swallowing her mouthful of chow fun. "What?"

Beca reached over, rummaging through her bag. She withdrew her laptop and propped it between them.

"New tracks from my new album," Beca answered. "Not sure which ones I'll end up using, but I figured you would appreciate them. It's nothing much yet," she remarked, pulling up the software, "just the beats. I need to get vocals behind it."

Chloe squealed, scooting closer. She listened for a moment, her head bobbing to the song. Beca watched the emotions flit across her face and smiled. It really was amazing the way Chloe could be so open when she was loose and free like she was currently.

Chloe beamed. "I like it," she declared. "It's definitely you, but it's also different than what you normally do."

Beca laughed. "C'mon, you know me. Can't be complacent. Gotta keep ahead of the game."

"You'd rather lead than follow," Chloe remarked.

Beca nodded. "People don't get noticed when they're just part of the crowd," she preached sagely. As another track played, Beca's lips pursed in contemplation. "I don't know who I want on this one," she commented. She clicked through the sound strip, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth.

"What are you thinking?" Chloe asked.

"Well…" Beca shifted, stretching languidly. "Part of me thinks a female voice would be a good contrast to the beat, but she would need to have quite the range for what I'm envisioning. Maybe Florence Welch?" Beca frowned, fingers tapping against the keyboard. "I could see the merit in handing it off to a male with a good falsetto to emphasize the chorus though."

"Justin Timberlake," Chloe offered out a suggestion. She grinned, remembering one of the most recent conversations she had with Aubrey where the blonde gushed about meeting her childhood crush. "I think you made Aubrey's year."

Beca chuckled. "It was fun seeing her fangirl like that."

Chloe hummed, setting her carton down on the coffee table. She scooted closer to Beca, laying her head on the other woman's shoulder. "I think you would have swayed anyone putting Justin Timberlake in front of them."

"Oh, so it isn't my talent anymore, it's my connections," Beca teased.

"Remember, Mitchell, it sure isn't your body."

"It hurt the first time you said it, and it still hurts now," Beca deadpanned.

"You artistic types," Chloe shook her head in teasing lament. "So sensitive."

Beca craned her head down. She noted the fiery curls splayed across her shoulder, and idly, she wondered how Chloe had ended up wrapped around her like that. She shrugged it off.

It wasn't quite comfortable.

It wasn't quite right.

But it was getting there.

Beca wound her free arm around Chloe's shoulders, fingers stroking through the red strands.

xxx-xxx-xxx

The Bellas sat around the rehearsal room, going over the arrangement for their Nationals setlist. Beca held the sheet music, coaching them through the intricacies.

_I will love love you tonight  
Give me everything tonight  
For all we know, we might not get tomorrow  
Let's do it tonight_

As the last notes rang through the rehearsal room, Beca applauded. "Good!" She nodded encouragingly. "It's getting there."

As Beca pulled Jessica aside to work on the lyric, Chloe gravitated to Aubrey, nudging the blonde who had a contemplative look on her face.

"You okay?"

Aubrey worried her bottom lip, her eyes straying to where Beca was circling Jessica, encouraging the other girl to reach a note. They couldn't quite hear what Beca was saying, but it was obvious in Jessica's body language that she was struggling. Beca stopped her, waving her hands while she shook her head. The DJ coached her through the sequence, clearly adjusting Jessica's breathing pattern, exaggerating the points where she inhaled and exhaled. Stepping back, Beca let Jessica sing. She grinned when the perky blonde hit the intended note.

Chloe laughed as Jessica squealed, wrapping Beca in a firm hug and bouncing in delight. The redhead looked over to her best friend, unable to read Aubrey's expression as Beca moved onto another Bella.

"Seriously," she repeated. "Are you alright?"

Aubrey's face relaxed in a smile, and she gestured over to Beca working with Ashley. "You know, a part of me is kind of disappointed that I'm not the one being the hero," she admitted.

Chloe cocked an eyebrow. "But?" she prompted.

"She's really good at this," Aubrey murmured. "She's finding the notes I never could." Both of them started in surprise as Ashley hit a particularly high note. "Like that." Aubrey turned a wide-eyed look to Chloe. "Wow!"

Chloe grinned. She leaned in towards Aubrey, propping her chin on the blonde's shoulder. "You are the one being the hero, Bree," she remarked, poking her best friend teasingly in the side. "You were brave enough to change everything." She waved a hand to the rest of the Bellas. While Beca had turned her attention on Ashley, Cynthia Rose, Fat Amy, and Lilly were working on Cynthia's rap solo and Stacie was going through harmonies with Jessica and Denise. It was a collaborative effort and all the girls were enthusiastically doing their part to improve on their skills.

"C'mon, Bree," Chloe implored. "You know we're better."

"I know," Aubrey conceded. She smiled ruefully. "What would Margo think if she saw us now?"

Chloe laughed. "Well, considering she couldn't believe she left us two 'slut-bags' in charge, something tells me she wouldn't look too favorably on what we're doing."

"Yeah."

There was something in Aubrey's expression. Something rueful yet hopeful at the same time.

"Hey," Chloe poked her. "We're about to do something that Margo couldn't do in two years as captain. Something that no Bella team has ever been able to do."

Aubrey nodded thoughtfully. "We can do this, can't we?"

Chloe beamed. "I think we can."

Aubrey laughed. "I don't think you've ever doubted that."

Both of them glanced up as Beca looked to Aubrey, signaling she was good with her group. Aubrey nodded her acknowledgement and raised her voice.

"Okay, everyone! Let's take a fifteen-minute break!"

The group dispersed along the rehearsal room. Beca shuffled towards the piano. Curiously, she huddled beneath the body, sitting cross-legged as she hunched over the sheet music. Chloe wandered over and plopped down next to Beca. The DJ cradled a pen between the fingers of her left hand, the end tapping anxiously against the paper as she mumbled to herself under her breath.

"You alright?"

Beca chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from her face with a flick of her wrist. "This definitely isn't what I thought it would be. Aubrey made it look easy."

"Aubrey didn't have to completely redo the setlist and arrangements," Chloe reminded her. "This is a bear of an endeavor even for your brilliant musical mind."

Beca chuckled as Chloe reached out, her index finger poking the side of Beca's head teasingly. Beca leaned back on her hands, her legs stretched out in front of her.

"Oh yeah." She tapped her temple. "It's all up here, but who knows if my vision is able to be reproduced through voices."

"You don't think we can do it?"

A corner of Beca's mouth tilted upward. "I don't know," she answered honestly. "The limits of the human voice aren't easily defined. Who knows what hidden talents we have lurking."

Chloe leaned in, a conspiratorial look on her face. "So what's your play?"

Beca cocked her head. "What do you mean?"

Chloe grinned. "Come on, Beca, you don't just do things 'just because'. _Especially_ when it comes to music." Her grin widened. "So what is our lynchpin that's going to take us beyond?"

Beca returned the grin. "How are you so sure that I have such a play?" she teased.

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Please, woman. I've seen you work."

Beca chuckled, conceding with a nod. "Touché, Beale." She tapped the sheet music. "Well, the plan is to be complex in our simplicity."

"What do you mean?"

"It's about layers," Beca replied. She slid out from under the piano and clambered to her feet. Leading Chloe to her laptop, she brought up her arrangement onto the screen. She pointed with her pen, skating it across the different notes. "In each section, one song dominates the arrangement," she explained. "That's the simple part. But the complexity comes from everything else that is inserted in complementary samples."

"So it's almost subtle in how complex it is," Chloe remarked.

"Exactly." Beca nodded. "We're using a lot of songs. The Trebles only use two at most; we're using three with inserts from two more. Our challenge is not to convolute the performance so much that these intricacies get lost or make the arrangement so distracting that the audience isn't able to appreciate it."

She trailed off as she noticed the wild smile blooming on Chloe's face. She scrunched a hand through her hair self-consciously. "What?"

Chloe's grin widened. "I forgot how hot you are when you're talking music."

Beca rolled her eyes, fidgeting under the intense, bright blue stare and fighting the blush from appearing. "Aw, c'mon, Chlo…"

"No, really," the redhead insisted.

Beca paused. Her hand reached out, snaking around Chloe's waist stroking the curve of the senior's hip. It was a hesitant, timid gesture, but it still caught Chloe's attention.

Vivid blue eyes landed on a darker shade as Beca squeezed gently. It was the first gesture Beca had initiated in a long time, and Chloe searched Beca's gaze for her intent. The DJ stared determinedly back.

Chloe merely smiled, relaxing to the embrace. She leaned down, pressing her lips to Beca's cheek.

Baby steps, Beale, she reminded herself. It was all about baby steps.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Beca had done radio interviews before but never with a person who knew the details of her life so intimately. Beca settled down into the booth at WBUJ. Jesse sat across from her, grinning with excited anticipation.

"You're sure you're alright with doing this?"

Beca chuckled. "I suppose so. Better you than some slimy journalist with some hidden agenda." Her eyes narrowed. "You don't have some sort of agenda, do you?"

Jesse grinned, showing the deep dimples in his cheeks. "Now, Bee Sting, why would I have an agenda? This can honestly only work in my favor."

Beca rolled her eyes. "And here I am getting absolutely nothing out of this deal," she teased.

"You get to spend time with me!" Jesse slapped his hands over his heart. "That doesn't mean anything?"

Beca shook her head with a laugh as Jesse slipped headphones over his ears as the last notes faded into the air. He rolled towards his microphone when the on-air sign lit up bright red.

"You're listening to Barden University's WBUJ: Music for the Independent Mind, and this is Jesse Evans here with you on your Prime Time Drive Time, filling in for Luke Morgan. Thanks for joining me. I've got a special guest here today with us." Jesse grinned, clearly in his element, and Beca snickered to herself.

"So when you're a multi-platinum, Grammy-winning DJ and producer, you would think life's pretty awesome. And when life's pretty awesome, how much more would one _really_ need to accomplish? The money, the cars, the women…what would be left?" Jesse paused for effect. "Well, apparently a college degree. You may or may not have noticed this but DJ Lady B, also known as Beca Mitchell, has been skulking through the Barden as a lowly student for the better part of this year. And right now, she is in studio here with me." Jesse's grin widened as he peered across the table to his guest.

"Beca, how are you doing today?"

Beca nodded. "I'm good, Jess. Thanks for having me. There's no one else I'd rather have interview me. We go back."

"Oh yeah," Jesse enthused. "Portland, Oregon lays claim to our awesomeness. Thanks for being here, by the way."

"Definitely my pleasure," Beca replied.

Jesse looked down at his notes, tapping the pad in front of him. "So I'm just going to jump right into it. This wasn't a move I think anyone in the music industry saw you making. Why choose now to go back to college?"

Beca laughed. "That's a good question. I've asked myself that many times during the year, especially during finals." She leaned back slightly as she gathered her thoughts. "It was my mom's last wish before she passed away my senior year of high school. She really wanted me to get a degree, but she also wanted me to chase my dream."

"That was four years ago," Jesse commented. "Why not go straight after high school?"

"I was stubborn and impatient," Beca answered with a sheepish laugh. "Mostly impatient. And many people can attest to that. I wanted nothing more than to go to LA and take the music world by storm, and my mom supported that. My dad is a bit more practical. He wanted me to get my degree. So we made a deal. I still had to try and get my degree, but I would also get four years to do LA first."

"And it worked out," Jesse remarked.

Beca chuckled. "Oh, yeah. I'll say so. It was hard starting out, but I was extremely bull-headed about making it. Eventually it paid off."

"Was it hard leaving LA?" Jesse asked. "I mean, you've built this career, you're successful; the premiere artists of the music industry are scrambling over themselves to work with you; was it hard leaving all that for this degree knowing that it's not something you necessarily need?"

"I mean, yeah," Beca answered. "I made the most of those four years, and it was hard to leave that comfort zone. But, yeah, it was a challenge. It really came down to the fact that my mom wanted me to do this, and to an extent, I wanted to as well."

"Has being out here slowed down your career?"

"No, actually." Beca grinned. "It's certainly been an interesting challenge juggling school and continuing to work, but coming out here has really allowed me to collaborate with artists that I haven't been able to before."

Jesse nodded. "Like…?" he prompted.

"Well, people like Usher. We've wanted to work together in the past, but it's been difficult to find time with him out here. So it's actually been a great thing coming out to Atlanta and being able to broaden my market."

"So why Barden?" Jesse asked. "I would imagine it would have been easier to stay in California and go to school there."

"My dad works here." She leaned in with a grin, feeling charitable. "Shout out to Dr. Warren Mitchell of the English department."

"And I think Dr. Mitchell's popularity just soared," Jesse joked. "Now, you talk a lot about your mom," he continued. "Obviously, we know she's a very important person to you. You've made that very clear in interviews in the past. And any fan of yours knows that every album has been dedicated to her. You've also mentioned that she's influenced a couple of your tracks. Is she who inspired you to pursue music?"

"Yeah, I would say she's a big part of that." Beca scrunched a hand through her hair. "Some of my favorite memories growing up were the times it was just us in the house. My dad would be working, and during the evenings, she would relax in the study in this big, cushy armchair by the stereo. I'd be able to tell kind of day she had through what types of music she was playing."

"So on a good day?"

"It would be a hair band, you know? Like glam metal of the 80s." Beca laughed. "Definitely someone like Whitesnake or Def Leppard." She answered the next question before Jesse could ask it. "On a not so good day, it would be something like jazz or blues. Most likely Etta James or Ella Fitzgerald."

"Sounds like you were exposed to quite a diverse catalog of music."

"Yeah." Beca's features relaxed into a fond smile. "I was. My mom was the one who showed me how to find music anywhere and everywhere, and that's kind of been my main way thinking when it comes to making music for myself. Once I found out what I could do with music, life just kind of made sense, you know?"

"That's awesome," Jesse complimented. "So, we're going to open up questions to the Barden masses. You can call in here at the station with a question for Beca or text it into our text line," Jesse rattled off the station numbers. "Or, of course, you can post your question on our Twitter feed, _BardenWBUJ_." He cast a glance over to Beca.

"You ready, Bee?"

Beca grinned, shooting out a thumbs-up. "Let's do it."

"Alright. Our first question is an easy one. _Cello_Nova_ wants to know, 'Why did you pick DJ Lady B as your stage name? #curiosityabounds."

"Yeah, that's a good question." Beca chuckled, ducking her head and rubbing the back of her neck. "You know, I really wish I had some awesome story of how I came up with it, but my mom used to call me Bumblebee and that's where I started when thinking up my stage name. I originally wanted to go with that but…"

"Not awesome enough?" Jesse supplied.

Beca laughed. "Yeah, 'DJ Bumblebee' didn't sound cool. I sounded like a deranged Transformer or something. So, I shortened it to 'B' and added the 'Lady' in front to give a little bit of mystery." Her laugh deepened as Jesse shot her a look.

"That's it?" he drawled.

Beca barked out a laugh. "Oh my God, you did not just go there, Evans."

"C'mon, Mitchell," he teased. "You're known for your creativity. That's the best stage name you could come up with?"

"I'd like to see you try," Beca challenged. She gestured, an impish grin on her face. "Go ahead, I'll wait…"

Jesse laughed, hands lofted in surrender. "Alright, that's fair. Point taken. I'll give you that one. Let's go to the phone lines. Barden U, let's hear from you guys. Franklin, you're up first. You're on the air with Jesse Evans and DJ Lady B."

"Hey, Lady B, how are you?"

"I'm well, thanks."

"Okay, so my question is what was it like to transition from big time LA to small time Barden?"

Beca chuckled, shaking her head. "Oh, wow. Yeah…" She scrunched a hand through her hair. "Well, I mean, LA is a beast in itself. It's congested, it's non-stop; sometimes it's overwhelming. You're liable to stumble across a celebrity as easy as you could trip over a curb. There's a certain persona one has to assume, and it's sometimes pretty exhausting. Here at Barden, it's slower. There isn't as much hustle and bustle, and it's definitely more chill, more relaxed. There's a different feel that's refreshing."

"Which do you prefer?" Jesse asked.

"I can't choose." Beca shook her head. "It's just different, and I actually don't mind different, really."

"Very diplomatic," Jesse complimented. "Alright. Let's go to the next caller. Kate, how are you doing?"

"I'm great! Thanks for having me on. Beca, I want to know if you forsee yourself working in other fields where music holds an important place. You know, like movies or on Broadway?"

"Awesome question," Jesse remarked. "Thanks for the call."

"Huh." Beca scratched her jawline. "Wow, you know, I've never thought about Broadway. I actually lived in Brooklyn for awhile, and I've seen shows on Broadway, but I've never thought about actually scoring a musical."

"Do you think you could?" Jesse asked.

"Maybe," Beca hedged. "Some artists have that particular talent to be able to craft an album and have it form a distinct storyline. Obviously, in recent memory, My Chemical Romance's _The Black Parade_ comes to mind. A more classic example would be Pink Floyd's _The Wall_. I personally construct my albums around a sequence of themes, not necessarily a working storyline, but…" Beca cocked her head, ruminating over that point. "I think that would be a cool challenge."

"And movies?" Jesse asked.

A bark of laughter escaped Beca's lips. "Oh, man…" She shook her head. "Movies are…an interesting thing with me." She gestured to Jesse. "You know very well my stance on them."

"She hates movies," Jesse elucidated for their listeners. "Which, to me, is akin to not liking puppies."

"Wait, wait, wait…" Beca interjected. "I never said I hated them," she corrected. "I said that normally they bore me because I can guess the ending."

"Beca used German to deduce Darth Vader was Luke's father, thus completely guessing the greatest cinematic reveal in history," Jesse informed their listeners. "When we were eight." He slapped the desk for emphasis. "Tell me what eight year-old knows German!"

"This eight year-old did," Beca protested.

"I still maintain that fact makes it very clear that you do not like fun things," Jesse chided lightly. They shared a chuckle. "Anyway, back to the question. Despite your misgivings about movies, do you see yourself tackling that arena?"

"Well, I can honestly say that I probably will not make many ventures into movies unless it's lending a track to the soundtrack," Beca responded. "Beyond that, I don't see myself really doing much more. It's just not my thing."

Jesse grinned. "No desire to reach outside of your comfort zone?"

"Yes and no," Beca answered. "I love challenges, but I definitely think that endeavors such as contributing to a movie deserve pieces in place that really hold conviction in the process, and until I find a film or project that really drives that passion in me, it would be a disservice to the film to bring me in just for the name recognition."

"Very honest of you," Jesse complimented. "Let's go back to the WBUJ Twitter feed for another question. So, Beca, _viccanrap10_ asks, 'If you could remix a Taylor Swift and Eminem song, which ones would you use?'"

Beca chuckled. "Oh, I like that question." She cocked her head thoughtfully. "I do love mixing artists that people definitely don't normally think about." She drummed her fingers against her chin, thinking out loud. "Well, pretty much, you can't go wrong with any Eminem song in my book. His lyrics are so slick and his flow is incomparable, and Taylor has been such a force in music since she's emerged." She hummed. "I would choose "Haunted" by Taylor to start with. I really love the introduction to that song. There's a kind of great dramatic tension between the pounding drums and the violins." She cocked her head. "For Eminem…I mean, technically, this is a Dr. Dre song, but he's featured pretty prominently, so I think it still qualifies, but 'I Need a Doctor" would probably be the other song. That's a track that resonates so strongly to me, and I think it displays every ounce of brilliance in both Eminem and Dr. Dre through the lyrics, the flow, the message of the song."

Jesse grinned. "An excellent choice. Would you want to work with either artist in the future?"

Beca frowned thoughtfully. "Uh…You know, it's kind of difficult to be able to work with artists like Taylor Swift and Eminem when they have such a distinct vision of their musicality."

"What do you mean by that?" Jesse asked.

"Well, they are the type of artists who are so involved in every aspect of music making," Beca explained. "And for those types of artists, it's very difficult to cede control to another party, especially one like me where I definitely take control of the creative process."

Jesse chuckled. "So it would be a power struggle from the start," he deduced.

"Probably," Beca agreed. "And it's not like I can't work with them, but when you have established artists who know who they are and aren't searching for their artistic identity, the question becomes if it's a good move creatively."

"That's a good point." Jesse ducked his head back to the WBUJ Twitter feed. "So, _VannLacroix_ wants to know, 'Has there been a time where you've wondered if you should venture into songwriting and singing instead of producing or DJing?'"

Beca frowned thoughtfully. "You know, that's a fair question. Pretty much, you know, I've been featured on tracks, I've co-written on quite a few, but I've never been the predominant singer or songwriter." She laughed. "I just don't think that type of spotlight is for me." She cupped her chin between her thumb and forefinger. "There's a sort of measure of vulnerability when it comes to being the singer or songwriter, and I'm just not sure I can put that much of myself out there."

"It's definitely not an easy endeavor laying yourself bare like that," Jesse added with a nod.

"Definitely," Beca agreed. "And that's why I limit my appearances on tracks to a couple of choruses or like a couple of lyrics in the bridge. You know, there are always going to be critics, and my main concern is what I do behind the scenes, not what I can contribute in the spotlight."

"That's an interesting take for sure." Jesse turned to the control board. "Alright, Amelia. Your turn. Welcome to the show."

"Thanks for having me, Jesse."

"Surely. What would you like to ask DJ Lady B?"

"Hi, Beca."

Beca grinned. "Hey, Amelia."

"I just wanted to know where you think you would be without music?"

"Oh, geeze." Beca canted her head. "Nowhere fun, I'll say that," she joked. She twisted her bracelets around her wrist with a grin. "There are very few things that I am good at outside of the realm of music, none of which translates into working skills that would be helpful to any profession whatsoever. I'd probably be at some boring, generic nine-to-five sort of job."

"Just another cog in The Man's machine." Jesse snapped his fingers. "Like Peter Gibbons in _Office Space_ or something."

"Probably," Beca laughed. "Surrounded by four walls in a cubicle, tapping aimlessly at a keyboard, entering numbers into a computer program that I have no idea what it does."

Jesse laughed. "So I'm guessing you're happy this all worked out?"

Beca nodded. "Oh, for sure. I would not be a very good contributing member of society otherwise. I'd probably be the type of person who's been going job to job because I pissed someone off or I sucked at what I did." They shared a laughed. Beca grinned. "So I think it's a definitely a good thing that this whole DJ and producer thing worked out."

Jesse shook his head. "Are you trying to tell us you probably would have been a bum had it not been for music?"

Beca tossed her head back, giggling slightly. "I will say that I probably would not be enjoying the comforts of the type of lifestyle that I have now."

"Again, very diplomatic," Jesse joked. "And back to the Twitter feed. _Leeohknee_ wants to know 'Where do you see yourself 10 years from now?'"

"Ten years from now?" Beca blew out a breath, humming in contemplation. "Huh…" She thought about it for a moment. "Yeah, professionally, I want to be still working, still being that innovative force in the industry, still building my legacy as it were." Beca and Jesse shared a laugh. "Personally speaking, I'd love to be settled down with someone. You know, someone who can love and appreciate what I do but at the same time be able to handle the crazy."

"Wow," Jesse expressed his surprise. "That's surprising. Now, of course, you've been highly publicized as quite the womanizer. You haven't had a serious relationship since you've emerged. The question becomes, does this mean you're ready for a long-term relationship?"

"Yeah."

Jesse ducked his head so she wouldn't see his smirk. "So when you see this future life who do you see standing with you?"

Beca blew out a breath. "You know, I don't know. I really don't."

"Doesn't have to be an actual person," Jesse persisted. "When you look in this vision of the future, what do you see? What type of person would be standing beside Beca Mitchell as she is inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame?"

"Alright, alright," Beca acquiesced. "I'll bite. Just because that future has me in the Hall of Fame," she teased. Beca sighed, eyes lofting skyward. "Uh, I mean, I guess she would have to love music. I mean, not necessarily to the extent that I do, but she'd definitely have to at least appreciate music. Ummm…" Beca scratched the back of her neck, eyes squinting as she continued to think. "She definitely can't be dazzled by the celebrity."

Jesse cocked his head. "What do you mean by that?"

Beca shrugged. "I mean, I work with people who carry a lot of star power, and those types of people will be around me a lot. It's not to say that she can't be a fan, but I'm not looking for a fangirl, for sure."

"So she can appreciate the star, but she also has to know when the time and place to do so," Jesse clarified.

"Yeah," Beca edified. "I mean, I'm human. I've done it, too. There have been moments where I've definitely gushed over someone I'm working with, but in the end, this is business, and I need to also be a professional."

Jesse nodded. "Understandable."

"I think the most important thing is that she has to get me," Beca commented. "You know, I've been told that I'm a complicated person. Basically, I'm split in two ways: DJ Lady B and Beca Mitchell. Both of them are very distinct personalities with two very distinct ways that they operate. The person I end up with needs to know both DJ Lady B and Beca and be able to exist in both worlds…"

She trailed off, knowing exactly who she described.

Jesse grinned big and wide as he let that sink in. He leaned into the microphone. "Sounds like quite the endeavor for your future lady," he remarked. His eyes scanned up to the clock. "And that's all the time we have for today. Thanks very much for joining us, Beca."

Beca shook herself from her ruminations, forcing a smile on her face. "It really was my pleasure."

Jesse grinned, flicking on a track. "You're listening to WBUJ: Music for the Independent Mind."

"I hate you," Beca mumbled once they were off the air.

"No you don't," Jesse disagreed. "You needed to hear that. Not from me or anyone else but from yourself."

Beca grunted. "I still hate you."

xxx-xxx-xxx

Beca wandered into the rehearsal room, the interview with Jesse replaying in her mind. It had become a sort of sanctuary throughout the year; a place where the purest form of vocal music rang within the four walls. She sat at the piano, enjoying her solitude.

Inwardly, she chuckled at her predicament. A year ago, she would have never thought that something as (seemingly) lame as an all-girls a cappella group would have brought her such joy, such satisfaction. Back when her father had implored her to giving college a try, he had wanted her to immerse herself in the full college experience. Never in her life would she have thought that her college experience would have begun and ended with the Bellas.

Especially a particular one.

Her hands rose to the keys, fingers caressed the blacks and whites, the individual notes blending together to a haunting intro. Her voice rang through the empty room, the performance reaching her imaginary audience.

_Right from the start, you were a thief, you stole my heart  
And I your willing victim  
I let you see the parts of me that weren't all that pretty  
And with every touch you fixed them_

Now you've been talking in your sleep, oh-oh  
Things you never say to me, oh-oh  
Tell me that you've had enough  
Of our love, our love

The lyrics resonated through her, the words ringing true. She had told Aubrey that she wanted to give the world a soundtrack to life. At this juncture of her own existence, one that was quite unfamiliar to her, this song encompassed everything that was currently battling for dominance.

_Just give me a reason  
Just a little bit's enough  
Just a second, we're not broken just bent  
And we can learn to love again  
_

_It's in the stars  
It's been written in the scars on our hearts  
We're not broken just bent  
And we can learn to love again_

Another voice rang through the rehearsal room, picking up on the second verse. Beca didn't have to glance up as to know Chloe was advancing on her.

The redhead's eyes were fixated on Beca's form flowing with the music. It was a hypnotizing effect, drawing her in, a magnetic pull that guided her feet until she was right in front of Beca at the piano.  
_  
I'm sorry I don't understand where all of this is coming from  
I thought that we were fine  
(Oh, we had everything)  
Your head is running wild again; my dear we still have everythin'  
And it's all in your mind  
(Yeah but this is happenin')_

_You've been havin' real bad dreams, oh-oh_  
_You used to lie so close to me, oh-oh_  
_There's nothing more than empty sheets_  
_Between our love, our love_  
_Oh, our love, our love_

It became a back and forth for them, the lyrics of the song conveying all they wanted to say. The things that had been stifled beneath pretenses and veiled moments were finally laid bare out in the open.

_Oh, tear ducts and rust  
I'll fix it for us  
We're collecting dust  
But our love's enough  
_

_You're holding it in  
You're pouring a drink  
No nothing is as bad as it seems  
We'll come clean  
_

Inwardly, Beca scoffed at the situation. This was something out of a bad high school sitcom. But at the same time, it was fitting. The first time they had ever interacted, had connected on an intimate level, it was through music.

The shower…

That one time at Chloe's apartment…

And, of course…New Year's.

Every moment of their relationship had existed with the background of music. It was only right to have it all come full circle. After all, music could talk where they couldn't.

_Just give me a reason  
Just a little bit's enough  
Just a second we're not broken just bent  
And we can learn to love again  
_

_It's in the stars  
It's been written in the scars on our hearts  
That we're not broken just bent  
And we can learn to love again_

Oh, we can learn to love again  
Oh, we can learn to love again  
Oh, oh, that we're not broken just bent  
And we can learn to love again

Beca's eyes shut tightly as she felt hands at her shoulders, the last notes of the song fading into the walls of the rehearsal room. She didn't resist when they turned her around on the piano bench. She kept them shut as gentle fingers caressed the contours of her face and inhaled sharply as she felt herself being mounted, and the weight of Chloe's body settled solidly in her lap.

Her arms wound around Chloe's waist as she felt herself tip forward, her forehead nestling in the crook of Chloe's neck. Beca whimpered as sure, tender digits wove through the strands of her hair, stroking gently.

She turned her face towards Chloe's neck, pressing a kiss to the smooth, golden column. She felt more than heard Chloe's gasp and whimper at the contact, and the fingers tightened in her hair. Beca's arms unwound from Chloe's waist, her palms framing the redhead's waist as she shifted, the subtle friction prompting another ragged intake of breath.

She could feel the pull, could feel the tangible and intangible combine as that velvet tongue begged for entrance. Lips parted, accepting the intrusion, and they moved together, their seamless embrace belying the conflict that still raged between them. One of them moaned…or both of them moaned. Neither could tell at this point, but it was a surge of energy that built the pace to a frenetic pinnacle. Hands and lips roved across silky skin, tasting and touching, the heat expanding beyond points of contact.

Beca was the first to break away. She tore her mouth from Chloe's with a gasp. Her eyes shut tight, she hunched forward, forehead resting on Chloe's collarbone. Her chest rose and fell, the deep breaths returning the composure she desperately needed. The connection was still there as Chloe cupped her chin, lifting Beca's face. This time, the lips brushing over hers were gentle, drawing softly from their passion, the tranquil waves lapping at the shore rather than the raging tsunami.

The kiss came to its natural, comfortable end, leaving both women breathless. Beca's eyes bore into Chloe's, searching for something…anything. Whatever she saw seemed to be exactly what she was looking for because she exhaled, the tension leaving her shoulders. If one were to ask Beca exactly what it was, she couldn't say, only that it was there. Beca tipped forward, nestling her head once again in the crook of Chloe's neck. With a contented sigh, she relaxed, snuggling into the familiar embrace.

Chloe merely smiled, cradling Beca's head as her nose burrowing through the unkempt chocolate strands. She inhaled Beca's conditioner mixed with her perfume, taking in the clean scent that reminded her of the ocean. Perhaps it was a contrived sentiment, but Chloe felt like she was finally complete.

xxx-xxx-xxx

They stayed in that embrace for awhile, huddled together on the piano, arms and legs intertwined. It was a comforting atmosphere as they sat in the abandoned rehearsal room, surrounded by their common passion, soaking in each other and the letting the lingering notes of their duet resonate.

Chloe inhaled, tightening her arms before leaning back. "We need to talk."

Beca tensed. Those words were never good. "Are you sure?"

Chloe rolled her eyes. She slid off Beca's lap. "Yeah. I want to explain why…" she waved her hand, vaguely, "things turned out the way they did."

Beca sighed. "Chloe, you don't have to," she offered. "I don't need to know. I just want to move forward."

"No," Chloe refuted. "You need to know. It's only right."

Beca nodded shortly. Chloe rummaged through her bag for her keys. She handed them over to Beca, separating a square-shaped locket. Beca opened the charm and glanced down at the smiling face of a handsome man holding a beaming Chloe in his embrace.

"This is the guy from all the family photos," Beca recalled. Her brow furrowed as she glanced over to Chloe. "Who is he?"

"Jack Spencer," Chloe answered. "His name was Jack."

"Was?" Beca asked.

"Jack was…he reminds me a little of you, actually," Chloe revealed. Beca noticed the redhead didn't quite answer her question. Still she stayed silent.

"Really?"

Chloe nodded, her features slipping into nostalgic. "A rebel-without-a-cause, devil-may-care attitude, effortlessly cool." She winked at Beca. "He didn't rock eyeliner like you do though."

Beca chuckled, shaking her head.

Chloe smiled. "I met Jack when I was younger. I was ten, Carson was twelve, and Jack was thirteen. He started late because his mom forgot he had to start school."

"That's shitty."

"He didn't have the best family life growing up," Chloe remarked sadly. "At the time, we were living in a small suburb just outside of Atlanta. We had moved there a couple of years earlier. We didn't move into the city until I was a sophomore in high school."

Beca nodded slowly. "I remember you telling me that."

"He stood up for Carson against some bullies. Ever since, Jack was Carson's best friend." Chloe dropped her head. "When he and Carson graduated, Jack became a firefighter, and he finally found his niche."

Beca smiled, knowing what it was like to find that passion. "So what happened?"

Chloe took a deep breath, struggling to keep her emotions under control. "We got together and things were…amazing." Chloe glanced down at her hands, running a nail over her ring finger. "He proposed my senior year of high school."

"Really?" The question popped out of Beca's mouth before she could reconsider. She flushed. "Sorry, it's just…that's really young."

"That's what I said," Chloe agreed. "I couldn't say yes. I knew we were too young."

Beca nodded slowly. She could understand that feeling as well. "

"Right after I said no, he was called out to a fire before he could say anything. He saved a couple of people, but some of the building fell on him, and he died while they were operating on him. I thought…" Chloe paused, swallowing down tears. "I thought I had killed him."

Beca's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"I thought that my rejection messed him up," Chloe explained. "That he wasn't thinking clearly when he went in and that killed him."

Beca honestly didn't know how to respond to that. She simply looked at Chloe, trying to wrap her head around what had just been revealed.

Chloe sighed, noting the conflicting emotions flickering across Beca's features. She stood from Beca's lap. Wordlessly, she held out her hand. Beca slid her palm into the offered one, allowing Chloe to tug her through the doors.

They exited the rehearsal room and went out to Barden Pond, circling around the edge. Chloe eased down against one of the trees. Beca sat beside her, stretching her legs out, her back against the tree. They let the comfortable silence flutter between them, allowing their past conversation linger, continuing to resonate. Beca twisted the ring around her index finger. Finally, she let out a deep breath.

"I get it," Beca conceded, finally finding the words to respond. "That just…" She battled for the right words. Finally, she shrugged helplessly. "That sucks." Beca scrunched a hand through her hair. "Things definitely make more sense."

Chloe nodded morosely. She sighed. "I guess I felt so guilty I had caused all of this that…" She waved a hand through the air. "I don't know…Maybe I thought Ididn't deserve to be in another relationship." She struggled to explain her reasoning. "After all of that, it was just easier to not get attached."

"But why did you start this between us if you knew that you were never in it for a relationship?"

"Because I had no idea _you_ were looking for one," Chloe admitted. "I thought I was just going to be one of your flings." Chloe breathed out. "Then I got to know you. Things started to change. I got freaked out, and when you told me you loved me, I just…I froze." A thought hit Beca and she waved her hands. "Wait…wait…hang on." Her mouth opened, and she shook her head, trying to make sense of what she just heard. "You were sleeping when I said I loved you…both times."

Chloe bit her lip. Her silence said everything.

"So…you heard me." Beca cocked her head. "Is that why you bolted? Because I said that I loved you?"

Chloe dropped her head. "The only thing I can think of is that I didn't deserve to be loved when the last time I was, I had thrown it away because of fear."

"So why didn't you just walk away?" Beca asked. "You could have so many times," she pointed out. "Why continue to pursue it?"

Chloe huffed out a chuckle, her eyes rolling skyward. "I tried," she admitted. "But you're you. Everything about you is attractive to me. Staying away was…impossible." Chloe shrugged. "I guess before I was really aware of it, we were kind of deep in what we had."

Beca nodded, massaging the back of her neck. "Yeah." She swallowed past the lump in her throat. "I guess I relate to that." She glanced over to her companion, not sure of how she wanted to ask her next question. Biting her lip, she just went for it.

"So what changed?" she asked. "You obviously came back different than when you left. What changed over break?"

Chloe sighed, the slow breath leaking out from between her lips. "I told you Carson came home, right?"

Beca nodded.

"I told him about us, and he thought that I was still stuck on Jack and that's why we didn't work out."

Again, Beca nodded. "He seemed to be pumped we were together. Your whole family was."

"They love you," Chloe smiled fondly. "But I was still so guilty," Chloe whispered. "I was so torn up thinking I had caused Jack's death that I let that guilt influence me, and I've carried it for so long." Her head lolled back and shook back and forth. "But Carson told me that Jack didn't really expect I would say yes. He figured he'd ask, but if I said no, he would wait until I was ready."

Beca caught the underlying message. "You don't have to be guilty anymore," Beca elucidated.

"I don't have to be guilty anymore," Chloe affirmed.

Beca absorbed that for a moment. Things made much more sense than they had before, but the pain still resonated. She turned her head, taking in Chloe's posture. Bright blue eyes met hers, and Beca was struck with how gorgeous Chloe really was. It was like a beacon drawing her in.

"I know I said I'm not ready to jump into a relationship, but the truth is, I don't even know if I _want_ the relationship," Beca commented. "You hurt me, and I don't know if I can handle all of that again. I have to figure out if it's even what I want," she explained honestly. Beca punctuated her thought with a determined nod of her head.

Chloe returned the nod. "Look, I get it," she assured her companion. "And I don't blame you." Chloe's expression took on a sly air. "But don't think I'm just going to sit around and wait for you to make your decision. I'm going to show you that I'm worth it."

Beca smiled softly. "You wouldn't be Chloe Beale if you didn't."

Chloe beamed brightly. "Yup." She scurried her way into Beca's lap and threw her arms around the smaller brunette.

"You know, if you didn't already warn me about the loss of my personal space, I would think you're pushing the issue."

Chloe giggled, shifting her hold. "C'mon, Mitchell, you know this is how I roll."

"Please don't ever say that again," Beca deadpanned. She cleared her throat. "Umm…Chloe?"

The redhead in her lap hummed, more out of contentment rather than an actual response.

Beca squeaked. "Your hand is on my boob."

Chloe's head popped up from Beca's shoulder, eyes plummeting down to her hand. Sure enough, one palm had curved around the swell of Beca's breast.

One would assume that the appropriate reaction would be to retract the offending appendage with a blush.

Beca should have known Chloe Beale would completely eschew propriety.

Chloe frowned, gently groping the body part in her grasp. It took everything in Beca not to verbally respond. Her grip tightened, tangling itself in Chloe's light blue Barden Bella sweatshirt.

"Have you ever gotten a boob job?"

"Seriously, woman?!" Beca squawked with indignation. "You've seen me naked!"

She looked into Chloe's dancing blue eyes, seeing the other woman trying hard to keep a straight face.

Beca's gaze narrowed. There was a beat before she pounced, spilling Chloe onto the grass. Mercilessly, she let her fingers search out Chloe's sensitive spots, sending the redhead into a sea of squirming giggles.

"Say uncle!" Beca entreated, barely getting her own demand out through her giggles. "Say uncle, Beale!"

"Never!" Chloe retorted.

"You're not getting out of this," Beca laughed.

A rush of breath flew from her lungs in a form of a surprised squeak as her world inverted. With a twist of her hips, Chloe deftly flipped them over, sending Beca careening onto her back with Chloe straddling her waist.

Chloe smirked. "Four brothers," she commented. "Wrestling was survival in the Beale house."

Beca looked up at the shining face hovering over her, the red ringlets cascading down like a wave of fire. Tenderly, she reached up, running her fingers through the soft strands. She smiled, tugging teasingly at the ends of hair tickling her cheeks.

Chloe leaned down, nose nudging Beca's. "Say uncle," she commanded.

Beca chuckled. "I should have known I can't win against you."

Chloe sat back on her haunches and grinned as Beca rose up on her elbows. She tucked her hair behind her ears, thighs bracketing Beca's hips. She reached out, flicking the star necklace resting against the groove of Beca's collarbones.

"You can't win at _everything_ in life," she teased.

Beca huffed out a snort.

Chloe's gaze softened. The connection was still there. Even with the animosity that had existed between them, the attraction practically radiated between them. Chloe cupped Beca's cheek, thumb tracing the cheekbones. The pull was palpable, and Chloe was never one to resist her urges.

"God, I want to kiss you," she whispered, her voice lowered to an intimate purr, nose brushing against Beca's.

Before Beca could respond, soft lips covered hers. She inhaled sharply but didn't protest. God, She missed this. Denying it would be the grossest mistruth ever to have flickered through her mind. Her eyelids fluttered shut as she eased down on her back. She forgot how intoxicating a simple touch from Chloe could be, let alone a kiss. Lips and tongues tangled, mingling with breaths becoming increasingly labored, dissolving into ragged pants.

Chloe's tongue traced the seam of Beca's lips before being granted entrance. One of Beca's hands wove through the soft red strands, the other sliding down along the curve of Chloe's back to palm the hip. Instinctively, Beca deepened their kiss, hips canting upwards to meet Chloe's downward roll.

She lingered in the kiss. Much longer than what would be deemed a fluke. No, this was intentional, and there was no excuse that she could use that would convey otherwise.

Beca parted with a huff. "You're trouble, Beale," she murmured against Chloe's lips.

The soft giggle was like music to Beca's ears. Beca's eyes briefly flicked heavenward as she felt herself succumb to the inevitable.

Resistance really was futile.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Beca may have accepted that it was probably going to be fruitless to deny her attraction to Chloe Beale but that didn't mean that she wasn't going to oppose the process. The redheaded vixen mixed a deadly combination of charm and persistence into a devastating armament that had her working her way under Beca's skin.

The moment she accepted Chloe's kiss…again…Beca felt their dynamic shift. They were working towards that resolution; Beca could feel the inevitability of it. It was now a matter of when she would take that step and let Chloe back in.

If Beca were honest with herself, she would concede that Chloe was probably already in. Her brain was huddling in its little corner like a petulant child, refusing to face the reality.

But the reality was that Chloe Beale was hard to get rid of. Her effervescent personality was so magnetic that Beca couldn't help but succumb to the pull…

…Which is why she found herself huddled on Chloe's couch in the middle of the day working on her Philosophy paper.

Beca hummed under her breath, unconsciously warbling the melody of Justin's new single that had yet to hit the airwaves.

Chloe frowned, lifting her head. "What song is that?" she asked. "It sounds catchy."

Beca smirked, shaking her head. "Can't tell you."

Chloe's mouth dropped open. "Why not?"

Beca grinned. "Because it's gonna be someone's single."

Chloe cocked an eyebrow. "Really?"

Beca nodded. "Uh-huh."

Chloe pouted, turning the big, blue stare to Beca. The entreaty was clear.

Beca shook her head. "Nope, no deal."

"Beca…" Chloe whined, leaning closer to the DJ.

Beca felt her eyes flutter as Chloe's perfume assaulted her sense of smell, and the warmth of Chloe's body pressed solidly into her thigh.

"Not…" Beca cleared her throat as the word was expelled in a squeak. "Not gonna happen, Beale."

Chloe's pout deepened before her eyes narrowed. She threw a leg over Beca's hips, settling herself firmly in the DJ's lap. Beca could only stare wide-eyed as Chloe got that look on her face, that sneaky, sly, conniving look that promised Beca's acquiescence in whatever Chloe set her mind to. The look that promised just as much pleasure as aggravation.

"Beca…"

The DJ in question sucked in a breath as Chloe rolled her hips forward in a subtle, _excruciating_ grind. Eyes shut tightly, she shook her head in protest.

Chloe's purr resonated in her ear. "Please…?"

Beca shivered as Chloe's tongue traced a slow – achingly slow – line up the column of her neck. "God, Chloe."

She was losing herself. She could feel it. Chloe's undeniable pull grabbed her by the lapels and was drawing her in with a Siren-like intensity. Chloe's taste filled her mouth, and she sank further into the sensations. She leaned in further, searching out the plump, soft lips that were equally hypnotic and intoxicating at the same time.

Her head swam, disconnecting any sensible thought from her mind. Chloe was all she could register. The redhead completely encompassed any working thought that flit through her arousal-addled mind.

Beca groaned, feeling her tongue drawn into a warm mouth, teased through nibbles and light suction. Nothing tasted better. The lithe body in her lap writhed, rolling forward, the energy from the delicious friction vibrating from the inside out. Chloe's ragged pants complemented her movements, the broken whimper stealing from the redhead's lips urging Beca on. Slim digits wove through her hair, clenching through the chocolate strands, fisting through the unkempt locks. Her own hands traced the hourglass figure, palming across slender thighs.

Skin.

She had to feel more skin.

Everything faded to a roar, pumping through her ears. Her hands moved almost unconsciously, fumbling with buttons, fingertips tracing the skin revealed to her touch. She was almost hyper-aware of the thighs bracketing her body. As Chloe's hand skimmed between them, reaching down to cup her sex, reality crashed into her foggy mind. Beca's eyes flew open, and she tore her mouth from Chloe's with a gasp.

"Wait, wait…" Beca squirmed, gently moving Chloe from her lap. She scrambled back, putting space between them. She tried not to concentrate on Chloe's mussed hair, or the sliver of lace and silk peeking out from the few buttons Beca's fingers had undone, or the wild look in her eyes. Instead, she tried to focus, settling her rapidly palpitating pulse and pulling herself together.

"Chloe, we can't do this." Inwardly, Beca cursed. Yeah, that sounded convincing. It probably would have been better if she hadn't said that in a near whimper.

"What?"

"C'mon." Beca shook her head weakly. "This is what got us in trouble in the first place."

Chloe's big, blue eyes blinked, and she glanced over the distance that suddenly existed between them. Her head cocked in confusion. "Beca…" Her voice grew small. "I thought you wanted this. I thought we were working towards us again."

Beca sighed, her head lolling back. "Chloe, look, it's not a matter of whether or not I want you or that I'm attracted to you. It's a matter of whether or not I'm ready."

Chloe nodded. "Look, I understand, but Beca, you've kissed me back."

Beca grunted. "Chloe…" Her eyes lofted skyward as she shook her head. "God, it's so hard not to just to give in," she admitted. "But I can't go into this the same way I did the first time around. I can't just give into you like this."

"What do you mean?"

Beca rubbed the back of her neck. She waved a hand through the air as though the gesture would sufficiently convey her point. "Because when I do, I lose all sense of rationale, and there's something about you that makes me forget myself. And I need all parts of my brain around you."

Chloe sighed. Looking down at herself, she started to do up the buttons of her blouse, running her fingers through her hair. "Beca, I told you that I would win you over, but you've got to let me know if that's actually possible. I'm not going to let you yank me around until you figure it out."

Beca nodded. "Yeah, I hear you." She stood, gathering her things. "I should go."

Chloe returned the nod, standing with her. She stepped up beside Beca, opening the door for the DJ. "Beca…"

Beca paused, looking up into those luminescent blue eyes. "Yeah?"

"I _am_ worth it, you know."

Beca leaned against Chloe's doorway smiling fondly at the redhead. "I know, Chloe. It's not you," she assured the other woman. "It's me. I've got to work through this."

Chloe nodded. Once again, she leaned in, her lips pressing tenderly against Beca's forehead. "I'm willing to wait, Beca, but I'm not going to wait around forever. I have too much self-respect for that."

"And that's one of the best things about you, Chloe." With a final nod and wink, Beca pushed off from the doorway, curling around the frame and exiting.

Chloe closed the door with a labored exhale. She could feel the tingles vibrating through her body, beginning at the heat pooling at her center. Some things just weren't able to be ignored, and her attraction to Beca was one of them. Chloe's forehead plunked multiple times against the door.

Freaking Beca Mitchell…

Beca stumbled out the front door of Chloe's apartment. She wandered through the streets, heading back towards campus. She entered by the east gates, weaving her way through the courtyard by the administration building. Sinking down on one of the stone benches by the statute of Fitzgerald C. Barden, Beca ducked her head, burying her face in her hands. A deep inhale filled her lungs with air before it expelled out in an exasperated hiss.

"What are you doing, Mitchell?" she chastised herself. "God, pull yourself together."

She could feel herself shaking, trembling. Whether it was because of Chloe or in spite of Chloe, she wasn't sure, but all she knew was that everything was coming to a head.

Beca normally wasn't one for indecision. Then again, she never thought she was one for love, either.

Freakin' Chloe Beale…

xxx-xxx-xxx

In the midst of everything surrounding their impending Nationals performance, the biggest thing weighing on her mind was her Philosophy paper. With the struggle it took to figure out her subject in the first place, she thought that would be easy enough to just add on to her paper from the previous semester.

Nope.

Huddled in the library, Beca glared at her computer screen, looking at the mere paragraphs that made up the next installment of her Philosophy term paper.

It was like déjà vu all over again.

And for some reason, glaring at her laptop screen still didn't translate into the words magically materializing.

Well, some things definitely never changed.

Beca let out a long, laborious groan and she bowed her head, her forehead thumping steadily against the table top.

"Are you alright there?"

Beca lofted her head, absently rubbing her forehead to find the amused green gaze of Aubrey Posen radiating down on her. She sighed, propping her chin on an upraised fist.

"I hate school," she grumbled.

Aubrey sympathized with a smile, gesturing to the empty side of the table. "You mind if I join you? For some reason, the library is totally packed today."

Beca nodded with a sigh, her thumb pressing the click top of her pen anxiously as she cast a glance down to her computer screen. "Sure as long as you don't mind me talking to myself."

Aubrey smirked. "Hate to break it to you, Mitchell, but grunting at your laptop won't magically finish whatever you're working on."

Beca sighed again, rubbing her hands over her face. "Dude, does it get better?" She pinched the bridge of her nose, stretching absently. "Seriously, though. Does school stop sucking?"

Aubrey chuckled, unpacking her tote bag. "Sorry," she remarked. "I wish I could tell you otherwise. Luckily, once you get to upper division classes, at least you get to choose what tortures you."

"I don't _need_ this," Beca whined, splaying out spread-eagle in her chair, her head lolling back. "I make millions of dollars per year…I work with Rock and Roll Hall of Famers! I don't need a degree. It's a piece of paper, for crying out loud."

Aubrey snorted. "Sure, and your Grammy is _just_ a statuette."

"Of course not," Beca mumbled. "It's materialistic, but it's like a tangible form of my accomplishments in the music industry."

"Some would say so is a degree," Aubrey countered with a shrug. "It's concrete proof of the hard work and effort put into the academic achievement. Plus, it also means something to other people." She gestured vaguely. "I'm sure the Grammy enhanced your reputation and stature and made people want to work with you because you have one. The degree does the same."

"I don't like arguing with you," Beca declared, her arm lofted over her head, her index finger pointing skyward for emphasis. "I can't verbally browbeat you into submission."

"Well, I wouldn't be a very promising law student if that were the case," Aubrey remarked with a wry grin. "I will say this, though." She leveled an amused look to her companion. "Battling with you this year has definitely given me practice for law school."

Beca laughed, bowing her head. "I am happy to be of some benefit to you," she drawled. Beca sighed, scrunching both hands through her hair, scowling at her laptop screen. "Seriously, though. I hate school."

Aubrey nodded to her laptop. "What are you working on?"

"Term paper for Philosophy," Beca grunted. She folded forward onto the desk, laying her head on the wood. "Man, it was hard enough to write ten pages, now I have to do ten more?"

"Which class?"

"Modern Philosophy with Graham," Beca answered.

"Oh, her famous 'Why?' paper." Aubrey nodded sagely. "Yeah, one of my friends is a Philosophy major. She said that paper was the best and worst thing to ever come out of the Philosophy curriculum."

"I believe it." Beca grumbled.

"What did you write yours on?" Aubrey asked.

Beca flushed brightly. It was one thing to admit the subject to herself, it was another to do so to someone else. She made the mistake of glancing up. Aubrey's eyes pierced through the distance between them like some hypnotic laser that compelled her to reply.

"Chloe," she mumbled.

Aubrey's eyes snapped to hers, and the blonde's brow furrowed. "In what context?"

Beca winced. Aubrey's tone indicated that Beca should tread very, very carefully in regards to her answer. The DJ rubbed the back of her neck, her eyes plummeting to meet anything else but Aubrey's inquisitive gaze.

She shrugged, trying to make it seem like no big deal. "Basically how a lot of my Barden experience is due to her, so I wrote how much she's impacted it all." Beca shrugged again. "Nothing in the paper was bad."

Aubrey's head tilted. "Why choose Chloe, though?"

Beca sighed. A flick of her fingers sent her pen skittering across her notebook as she rubbed her temples. "Because she's taken over my life."

Aubrey laughed. "She tends to do that. You don't deny Chloe Beale."

"Tell me about it." Beca leaned back in her chair. "You know, apparently, this paper is supposed to tell a lot about me," she commented. "What does that say?"

Aubrey's mouth twisted, and her sharp green eyes surveyed Beca closely. "Are you sure that you want to know the answer to that?"

A slow, breath flew from her lungs. She drummed her fingers against the tabletop. "I think I'm getting to the point," she admitted. "It's inevitable that I'm going to cave." Beca hunched over, propping her chin on stacked fists. "I have yet to figure out to say no to Chloe."

"Join the club." Aubrey shook her head fondly. "When she throws out those big blue eyes, I have a hard time doing the same."

Beca slumped back, stretching her arms over her head. "I don't know what to do," she admitted. "I'm in this spot where I want to be with her, but I can't help but hold back."

"Why?"

"It still kind of hurts," Beca admitted. She ran her hands over her face. "Man, why can't I get past this?"

"Well, let me ask you something," Aubrey folded her hands, leaning forward. "Are you still in love with Chloe?"

Beca nodded slowly.

"Then what are you waiting for?"

Beca's eyes plummeted down to her Chuck Taylors. She knocked the toes together as she gathered her thoughts. Finally, she shrugged. "I guess for my brain to catch up with my heart."

Aubrey rolled her eyes. Leaning across the table, she flicked Beca hard on the forehead.

The brunette recoiled in surprise. "Ow! What was that for?"

"Quit over-thinking it!" Aubrey scolded, poking Beca in the forehead. "Do you love Chloe or not?"

"Yes," Beca yelped. "Yes, alright!" She rubbed her forehead. "Jesus, woman! This is coming from you? The queen of over-thinking?"

Aubrey ignored that. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her posture, squaring her shoulders. Her gaze narrowed slightly as she zeroed in on her companion. The idle thought flit through Beca's mind that she never wished to be put into a position where she was staring down Aubrey across a courtroom.

"Look, Beca, I get that Chloe hurt you in a lot of different ways, but the fact of the matter is that you keep coming back. You have to ask yourself why."

"I'm starting to hate to that question," Beca grumbled.

"It's a fair point," Aubrey insisted. "But you've reached a juncture. You can't draw this out any longer or you'll be doing the same thing Chloe did to you." Aubrey leaned in, eyes sparkling with intent. "And I know you're not a hypocrite."

"No," Beca admitted. "I'm not."

Aubrey nodded. "No, you're not."

Beca huffed out a scoff. "I don't know, Aubrey. There are just so many things that come into play. I mean, do I even want this?"

"Goddammit, Beca!"

Beca recoiled as Aubrey's palms slammed down on the wooden surface separating them. The blonde's presence loomed across the distance, so much so Beca could have sworn they were nose to nose. Her gaze snapped up in surprise as Aubrey stood, palms braced on the table. She could only squeak as fierce green eyes burned with a vicious fire.

"Enough already!" Aubrey barked. "You've said it yourself that you love Chloe. You know for a fact that she wants you back as well. The only thing that you have to conquer is yourself and right now, you're being a fucking coward."

"Excuse me?" Beca spluttered.

"You heard me." Aubrey enunciated her statement again. "You're being a coward. You've told me that you became successful because you weren't afraid to take chances. I will tell you right now that love is all about taking chances to get what you want. And I know you want Chloe."

Beca shrank into herself. Aubrey's eyes scanned over the DJ. It was quite humbling to see the normally large presence of Beca Mitchell practically disappear in the wake of her indecision. Beca bit her lip, glancing away. "What if I get hurt again?"

Aubrey shook her head. "Then you get hurt. You wouldn't stop making music because you're afraid your next album would be bad, would you?" Her head tilted to meet Beca's gaze squarely.

Beca absorbed that, nodding thoughtfully. "You're right. I've got to do this. No more what ifs."

"Good," Aubrey smiled. "Chloe's at our apartment." Aubrey cocked an eyebrow as Beca sat in her seat, simply nodding to herself. Aubrey sighed as Beca made no effort to move. "Beca?"

Still nodding distractedly, Beca glanced up at the senior Bella. "Huh?"

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU STILL SITTING HERE FOR? MOVE, MITCHELL! MOVE!"

Beca jumped, startled into action. She packed up her things, moving almost on compulsion.

Aubrey nodded to herself in satisfaction as she descended back down to her seat and calmly returned her attention to her notes as Beca stumbled over her feet in her haste to depart. "You're welcome."

_And there we go! I hope you guys enjoyed this one. As usual, please feel free to let me know what you think! This next chapter promises even more Beca/Chloe action, and I can promise you guys right now, it's gonna be a steamy one! Hope that's enough to keep everyone enticed. The songs used in this chapter are "Just Give Me a Reason" by Pink feat. Nate of FUN. _

_Until next time…_

_*ISP_


	14. Chapter 14

_Oooooookay! Finally, we have reached the chapter that brings everything back together. I should point out that this is very much an M-rated chapter, so those who are not partial to the lady lovin' should probably skip ahead. That's pretty much all you need to know. Enjoy!_

_And, of course, a shout-out to __**Bronagh_McCann**__ out on Twitter who correctly surmised that the song Beca was humming in the last chapter would come into play in this chapter. Cheers!_

* * *

CHAPTER 14

_I'm so afraid to love you, but more afraid to lose  
Clinging to a past that doesn't let me choose  
Once there was a darkness, deep and endless night  
You gave me everything you had, oh you gave me light_

_And I will remember you_  
_Will you remember me?_  
_Don't let your life pass you by_  
_Weep not for the memories_

Closure.

It was an interesting concept.

If one were to look up the definition of closure in a dictionary, one would find the word to mean "an often comforting or satisfying sense of finality."

If one were to ask a psychologist about closure, one would get something along the lines of closure embodying a process of letting go of what once was in order to move forward.

Either way, closure had an interesting connotation. It was accepting the past, honoring its value in its impact and influence, yet mustering the gumption to move forward. The idea of finding closure was even more interesting. It was a dichotomy in the best of ways. The notion that one door was closing, only to serve as the opening of another, a general progression forward.

Not only was closure an interesting concept, it was an important concept.

To both Beca and Chloe.

To move forward, they both needed closure.

But no one said that it would be easy.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Never before had Beca every found an apartment door so intimidating. It really wasn't anything she hadn't seen before: a block of wood barring the occupant of the apartment from the rest of the world. Maybe that was the intimidating part, Beca philosophized. Not the door itself, but the person behind the door. Beca sighed. This whole Philosophy thing was getting to her.

Still, Aubrey's screech was one of the most terrifying things her ears ever had the displeasure of picking up. That prompted her action more than her fear stifled it. Raising a fist, Beca' knocked on the door. There was a slight pause before it opened, and Chloe's face filled the doorway.

Chloe's eyes widened as she took in Beca outside her door. "Hi." She seemed skeptical, unsure of Beca's intent. The sight of the DJ fidgeting, bouncing from foot to foot with anxious energy surely wasn't helping her case.

"Hi." Beca visibly winced as the word was expelled in a squeak. She cleared her throat, repeating her greeting. "Hi."

Chloe's head tilted to the side as she surveyed Beca in front of her. "What are you doing here?"

Beca's mouth opened and closed. Her eyes plummeted down to her shoes as a shoulder lifted in a shrug. "Aubrey yelled at me," she mumbled.

The amusement was quick to appear on Chloe's features. "That's not surprising. What for this time?"

Beca's eyes didn't meet Chloe's as she shrugged again. "She was telling me to stop being a coward and tell you how I feel."

Chloe straightened. She opened the door even further, gesturing with a wave of her hand. "Maybe you should come in."

Beca nodded, stepping over the threshold. She cleared her throat, looking up at Chloe.

"Okay…" Beca's mouth opened and closed as she fought to accurately convey her thoughts. She rolled her shoulders back, struggling to compose her racing mind and her eqully racing heart. Her hands waved futilely as though they could translate the millions of different sentiments bouncing off the walls of her brain.

Chloe tilted her head expectantly. "Beca?"

A strangled sort of squeak was her response, and Beca flushed. She cleared her throat, hoping the action would help the words along. She squared her shoulders, trying again.

"Chloe, I…" she faltered, unsure of exactly what she wanted to start with. Much to her chagrin, she came up blank. Her hands fluttered again urging the words forward.

Yeah, no dice.

Damn, she really sucked at this.

Beca's head lolled back, and her lips moved but no sound came out. Her eyes met Chloe's before dropping down to the ground. Beca turned to the door, shoulders slumped. She ducked her head, clearly mumbling to herself. Chloe watched her closely. Suddenly, Beca's head jerked up and her posture stiffened. She turned sharply. The first verbal words out of her mouth were not the words Chloe expected.

"No," Beca stated plainly.

Chloe's head tilted in confusion. "No?" she reiterated.

"No," Beca repeated. She took a deep breath. "I told myself that I wouldn't do this." Beca ran a hand through her hair. "I said I was going to just say what I feel and lay it all out there."

"Okay…"

"Look, I'm not good with words," Beca pleaded. "Or emotions," she added as an afterthought. She worried her lip, thinking of the best way she could properly express what she was feeling.

She guided Chloe to the couch, urging the redhead to sit. Pulling out her laptop, she placed it on the table and opened her software to one of the tracks she had been working on. She tapped in a couple of commands before dropping down to sit beside Chloe.

Chloe's brow furrowed as she watched Beca, a confused look gracing her features. "Beca, I don't…"

The DJ stopped her with a hand. "Just…" Beca gestured vaguely to the laptop. "Just listen."

Chloe obliged, turning towards the laptop screen as a very distinct voice floated from the speakers.

_Aren't you somethin', an original  
Cause it doesn't seem merely assembled  
And I can't help but stare, cause  
I see truth somewhere in your eyes_

_I can't ever change without you  
You reflect me, I love that about you  
And if I could, I  
Would look at us all the time_

_Cause with your hand in my hand and a pocket full of soul_  
_I can tell you there's no place we couldn't go_  
_Just put your hand on the glass_  
_I'll be tryin' to pull you through_  
_You just gotta be strong_

Chloe's eyes shot to Beca. The DJ didn't meet her gaze, staring stubbornly at the ground. She let the song speak for fear of her own words.

_I don't wanna lose you now_  
_I'm lookin' right at the other half of me_  
_The vacancy that sat in my heart_  
_Is a space that now you hold_

_Show me how to fight for now  
And I'll tell you, baby, it was easy  
Comin' back into you once I figured it out  
You were right here all along_

_It's like you're my mirror_  
_My mirror staring back at me_  
_I couldn't get any bigger_  
_With anyone else beside of me_

_And now it's clear as this promise that we're making  
Two reflections into one  
Cause it's like you're my mirror  
My mirror staring back at me, staring back at me_

Beca leaned over, stopping the track. She sat back, waiting for Chloe's reaction.

"That's Justin Timberlake," was all the redhead could say. "You were humming that once before."

Beca nodded sheepishly. "That's his new single." She coughed. "It's, uh…" Her hand waved through the air. "It's not supposed to be out for another month."

Chloe nodded seriously. "Not a word," she promised. She sobered, her eyes searching out Beca's.

"So what does this mean?"

Beca rubbed the back of her neck. "I guess…I guess I'm trying to say that, you know," she waved a hand absently through the air. "I guess…I, uh…" Beca grunted her frustration. Her head lolled back as her shoulders slumped. She directed her gaze skyward. "Man, this was easier when I was saying it in my head."

A stark realization hit Chloe, and she scooted closer, trying to reassure Beca, hoping her encouragement would make the words come easier. "You've said it before," Chloe reminded her.

"When I thought you were asleep," Beca countered. "And when you heard it that first time, you weren't meant to. If you hadn't…" she shrugged. "Who knows where we would've ended up?"

Chloe shook her head. "You can't think like that," she chastised. "What happened made us face the truth, and I certainly wouldn't change that in a second."

"Despite all the heartache in between?"

Chloe nodded resolutely. "Despite all of that, yes."

"You know, when I said it the first time, it was easier. I thought you were asleep. I thought I could say whatever, and it would be safe, I guess," Beca remarked softly. "I wasn't sure how you would react, and I don't think I was ready to face your response, whatever it was gonna be."

Chloe scooted closer, her hand covering Beca's.

Beca glanced down at their entwined palms, taking a readying breath. "But, I think we're at a place where we need to lay it out. No more hiding behind the past. I'm gonna say it while you're awake, no matter how scary the idea is." Beca squared her shoulders. "And I'm gonna say it out loud and just straight up…mostly because I don't know what else I could say…or, you know…really any other way to say it."

Chloe nodded encouragingly, her eyes meeting Beca's. She didn't speak, just waited. The apprehension that lingered was palpable; she had never been afraid of speaking her mind. But for once, she held back her words for fear that her own voice and the words that would accompany it would break the spell between them.

"I love you." Beca shrugged helplessly. "I love you, Chloe. It's kind of just that. I'm in love with you." Beca inhaled deeply, letting the breath leak out through pursed lips.

"I love you, too," Chloe blurted out before Beca could do or say anything else. She inched forward, hunkering as close as she could to Beca. "I'm so in love with you."

"Life sucks without you," Beca admitted. "I'm sorry." She ducked her head, shaking it slowly. "I've been so indecisive about us, and it wasn't fair to you. I was being stubborn and my stupid pride wouldn't let me be honest with myself. But the truth is, I've only been hurting myself."

Chloe stopped her with a hand to the arm. "You don't have to apologize for that. I should be apologizing. I should have told you about Jack the moment I figured out this was getting deeper between us."

"How about we stop apologizing," Beca suggested with a soft grin.

Chloe gave a slow beam, nodding happily. "Deal."

Beca leaned in, her nose nudging Chloe's. "Don't run."

"I won't," Chloe promised. She cupped Beca's face. "I love you."

Their lips met in a kiss filled with promise. Beca moved first to deepen the embrace, her tongue searching out Chloe's. And as their kiss continued, the atmosphere changed and shifted, plummeting Beca and Chloe to their path of completion.

xxx-xxx-xxx

This time was different.

Noticeably different.

There was something to be said about fucking, about that carnal, animalistic quest for release.

There was something more to be said about making love, about that intangible connection.

Chloe backed Beca into the bedroom. With an insistent shove, she sent Beca down to the edge of her bed. Chloe straddled the brunette, her lips dipping down to Beca's. Beca's tongue snaked out, flicking against Chloe's, the redhead's taste making the DJ's head spin.

Beca palmed Chloe's hips, curving around the swells of toned, generous glutes. Chloe rocked insistently in her lap, desperate for the friction that would hasten them to completion. Beca tipped forward, her lips starting at the dip in Chloe's V-neck. Her tongue traced the valley, teeth scraping over the swells. Chloe's whimper spurred her on, energizing her. Idly, her mind wanted her to hear it again. And again. She wanted that sound continually coming from Chloe's mouth.

Chloe leaned back, crossing her arms at the waist, whipping her shirt up and over her head. Beca groaned at the chiseled abdomen bared to her gaze. She dipped down, her lips and tongue tracing the sections of lean muscle. Gentle suction chased wandering fingers up the golden expanse of stomach until Beca's nose bumped against the pink and red lace and silk of Chloe's bra.

"Fuck, Chloe," she breathed. "You are so damn gorgeous." She buried her nose in the valley, hands spanning up Chloe's back.

Chloe moaned, feeling Beca's teeth scrape along the edge of her bra. "Beca…" She hissed, feeling the heat pool at her center. Grabbing the DJ's head, she wove a fist through Beca's hair.

Chloe gasped. She cupped Beca's face, guiding the DJ's lips back to her own. There was no build-up to the kiss. It started carnal and only deepened. Chloe's hands wandered to the lapels of Beca's flannel, tugging it off and tossing the purple button-down away.

"Why do you insist on wearing layers?" she mumbled against Beca's lips, nipping the bottom one in a teasing chastisement.

"Same reason why you wear your matching underwear sets," Beca returned, raising her arms to facilitate the removal of her tank top. "For torture."

Chloe snorted, reaching behind Beca to unclasp the brunette's bra. Chloe hissed her approval as Beca's generous chest spilled into her hands. Chloe shoved Beca back, one hand kneading the pale globe, the other popping the button on Beca's jeans. Chloe hooked her fingers through the belt loops and tugged down.

"Off," she grunted.

Beca lifted her hips, wiggling the tight denim down her legs. Chloe licked her lips, looking down at Beca's sprawled form but couldn't stop the giggle from breaking through as she centered her eyes on Beca's panties.

Beca blanched. "Please don't tell me I'm wearing my Lilo and Stitch underwear."

Chloe gazed down at the blue face of Stitch and grinned. "Okay, I won't tell you."

"That's not sexy…" Beca flushed, one hand slapping over her face as she groaned. "They were part of a gift package from Jesse."

Chloe giggled. "I'm not quite sure how I feel about Jesse gifting you underwear." She grinned. "They're cute," she insisted. Electric eyes roved over the garment, glinting with a predatory light. Chloe shrugged, snapping the waistband teasingly. "Too bad they have to come off."

As Stitch flew into the corner of the room, hands skated up the planes of Beca's body until she was hovering over the DJ. Chloe darted forward, a teasing lick painting Beca's lips, before she slid back to the edge of the bed. Beca raised herself on her elbows, eyes following every movement Chloe made. A coy, smile playing at the corner of her mouth, Chloe hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her thong. Hips swaying from side to side, she worked the panties over her thighs and down her legs. Beca watched the torturously slow descent with a hungry gaze.

Chloe wasn't done with her show, her hands skating upward, curving over breasts encased in red silk and pink lace. She sent a saucy wink to the DJ spread out on her bed.

"Sweet Jesus…" By this time, Beca was beyond propriety, beyond decorum. She shamelessly ogled, appreciating the trim abdomen, the long, slender legs. At that moment, Beca saw the truth to every single person proclaiming she was a boob woman.

Dude.

She _totally_ was.

And Chloe wasn't even all the way naked.

As though the redhead read her mind, Chloe smirked, unhooking her bra. The straps slowly slid down her arms, followed by the cups, finally baring the gorgeous breasts that had been hidden from her. Chloe blew Beca a kiss, mischievously flicking the discarded bra onto the DJ's chest. Beca laughed, tossing it aside. Chloe crawled up on the bed, hovering over Beca's splayed frame.

Chloe kissed her way to Beca's earlobe. "I'm gonna make you scream."

Chloe's intense gaze, pupils swallowing the vivid blue Beca was used to seeing, promised just that.

Beca veritably shivered.

The shiver turned into a full-body tremble as Chloe ducked her head. Her tongue started in the dip of Beca's throat, slowly, achingly meandering its way down the center of Beca's body.

Beca's arms weakened almost immediately, spilling her flat onto the bed. A strangled gasp tore from her throat. "Chlo…"

She could feel the smirk on her skin as Chloe maneuvered between her thighs. A butterfly kiss graced one thigh then the other, purposely avoiding the one area Beca needed her most. Beca's hips rose, instinctively seeking out the warmth trailing along the skin of her thighs. A rough, grating grunt tore from Beca's throat as Chloe's tongue flicked a languid path up her sex until her lips latched onto her clit.

Chloe smirked. "Might wanna brace yourself, baby."

Beca veritably whimpered. "Fuck, Chloe, please."

A wink was her singular warning before everything became a whirl of sensation. Beca only had the barest of moments to take an inhale of breath before every other respiratory function that followed was in the form of a ragged gasp, a broken pant, or a keening moan. She arched upwards, hips undulating with each pass of Chloe's tongue over her folds.

"Oh, God…"

Chloe was relentless, hitting all the spots, sending tingles shocking through ever synapse, every nerve, every minute millimeter of skin that could possibly elicit any sort of sexual response. Where Chloe's tongue traced, her lips followed until they reached her destination. With a saucy smirk, Chloe wrapped her lips around Beca's clit and pulled sharply.

"_Chloe_!"

The sensation started at the gentle suction of Chloe's lips, but it vibrated out to the very tips of her extremities. Beca could only string together sounds, never mind actual words. With each teasing flick of the tongue, each gentle nibble, the roar in Beca's ears grew stronger, more insistent. She drew in a deep breath, the heightened tingles spilling out and over every inch of her body. Beca vocalized her release with a hissed grunt of Chloe's name, her eyes slamming shut, and her hand clenching tightly in Chloe's hair. When the spots cleared and she could see again, Beca drew in a deep breath to calm herself. Chloe kissed her way back up until her face swam into Beca's vision.

"Now I really do love you," Beca breathed out.

Chloe giggled, dipping her head to teasingly nip at Beca's neck. "You were so hot when you came."

Beca tugged Chloe up to her lips, showing her appreciation. She flipped them over, straddling the redhead. Nimble fingers danced down the lithe body, tracing over the curves of golden skin. Beca slid down Chloe's body, fitting herself in the cradle of spread legs. She ducked her head down, teeth scraping lightly against one nipple then the other. Beca lofted her head, sending out a roguish wink.

"My turn, Beale."

She cupped Chloe's face, seeking out another kiss, pulling a whimper from the redhead. Beca's fingers skated from Chloe's cheeks, across her shoulders, and down her arms until their fingers intertwined.

Beca smirked, a wolfish grin adorning her features. She guided their joined hands up until she wrapped Chloe's fingers around the wrought iron bars of the redhead's decorative headboard.

"Might wanna hold on."

Chloe nodded furiously, a keening whimper tumbling out of her lips as Beca's hips rolled, the friction sending shockwaves pulsing through her skin. Chloe bit her lip, her pelvis thrusting upward as she tried to recreate the delicious pleasure that had palpitated from the movement.

Beca smirked, dipping her head down to Chloe's neck, her teeth scraping against the pulse point, catching the skin lightly and pulling gently. Chloe cried out, hips jerking upward in reflex, her fingers tightening against the iron bars.

"Ohmigod, Beca!"

Beca kissed her way down Chloe's body, worshipping every inch of golden skin available to her lips, tongue and hands. She relished in Chloe's broken pants and whimpering moans vocalizing her delight.

Chloe didn't know what magic Beca pumped through her veins, but whatever it was, it made every touch Beca imparted on her resonate with pleasure as though she had touched a live wire.

Beca propped herself up on her forearms, gazing down at Chloe's face flushed with pleasure. A smile curled a corner of her lips. A reverent hand came up, tracing the contours of Chloe's features. Starting at the forehead, she tickled the slope of the nose, skated along the curve of a cheekbone, before skipping along the plump softness of Chloe's lips. They parted, Chloe's tongue sneaking out to provide a languorous lick of encouragement. Beca's smile widened, while her fingers continued on their leisurely jaunt, weaving a path down Chloe's body, up and over the jut of collarbones, taking a lap around the areola of Chloe's breast with a detour for a teasing pinch to the nipple. Chloe's pants grew even rougher as Beca skimmed over her stomach, the fingertips tumbling over the sharp divide of a chiseled abdomen before Beca ended her journey at Chloe's sex.

Chloe moaned, arching upward as Beca's nimble fingers parted her folds, finding the wetness of her arousal. "Beca…" Her whimper turned to a sharp howl as the tips circled her clit.

"Oh, God, _yes_…"

Beca's nose nuzzled her neck, and Chloe could feel the words whispered against her skin. "You're so amazing, Chloe," Beca murmured, one hand bracing against the headboard, the other stroking a mind-numbing pattern against her sex.

"Beca…" Chloe panted, her face flushed with arousal and frustration. "Beca, please."

"What, Chloe?" Beca prompted, her movements slowing. She drew two fingers, the tips barely making contact, up Chloe's slit. They drew an indolent, unhurried path around Chloe's clit.

"Inside…" Chloe moaned, barely able to get the syllables out. "Please, I need you inside of me."

Beca obliged, her fingers entering gently, and Chloe's whimper of delight vibrated between them. Beca nipped Chloe's earlobe, her hot breath hissing out a promise.

"Baby, I'm gonna make you feel so good."

When Chloe moaned her response, Beca drove forward, using her hips to guide her fingers. Each thrust, she whispered assurances for Chloe's pleasure, her muscles flexing as she worked to heighten Chloe's satisfaction, moving with the single-mindedness that Chloe had only seen focused on music.

Everything felt so sensitive as sweat-slicked skin slid against one another. Chloe couldn't hold back the urge any longer and unwrapped her hands from the headboard, clutching onto Beca's undulating back. Her nails raked down the pale expanse as Beca deepened her thrusts. Chloe felt herself racing towards her climax, and she grasped for purchase on any part of Beca she could reach. It was building, the pressure tightening her limbs, the tension willing itself for liberation, for completion. The sensations spun her head, the only indicator of the impending pleasure that was racing towards its finishing point.

"Beca, _yes_…Oh, fuck…"

With one final stroke, Chloe arched upward, a wailing cry signaled her release as her orgasm washed over her. It spread through her body, throwing her convex off the mattress, her arms and legs tightening around Beca's body as she let wave after wave of pleasure send her into a full-body tremble.

As the onslaught of gratification finally dissipated to light quivers humming through her, Chloe came back to herself. She settled, trying to catch her breath. Beca rolled off her to the side, her lips curved in satisfaction. Chloe willed her limbs to move and rotated with Beca, curling into her side. She laid her head on the DJ's shoulder, nuzzling into Beca's neck. Beca slung an arm around her back, a fingernail tracing up Chloe's spine. They reveled in the closeness, the warm glow of their lovemaking humming in the air between them.

Chloe shifted to a more comfortable position, her palm splayed over Beca's stomach.

"When I can feel my limbs again, we're going another round," she promised.

Beca chuckled, craning her neck down to accept Chloe's kiss. "No rush, Chlo," she implored. "We've got all the time in the world."

Chloe smiled, rotating around, cuddling back against Beca, pulling their joined hands to her chest. With one final kiss to their entwined fingers, Chloe closed her eyes, letting sleep relax her body.

Beca watched the redhead's breaths even out. Dipping her head, she lay a kiss on Chloe's neck, and let her own body relax.

For the first time in a while, as trite as it may seem, everything felt right.

xxx-xxx-xxx

She wasn't sure how long they had drifted off, but when Beca woke, it was still relatively light outside. The waning sunlight filtered in through Chloe's bedroom window, bathing Chloe's slumbering form in pinks and oranges. Beca propped her head up on her elbow, gazing down at Chloe. Her palm started at the redhead's shoulder, skating over the dips and curves of golden, velvet skin that disappeared beneath the sheet.

Chloe's eyelids fluttered open, and she smiled at Beca's intent stare.

"I could feel you staring," Chloe remarked. "Super creepy."

Beca chuckled, leaning in to brush a kiss to Chloe's lips. "If it makes you feel better, you're the only person I'd ever want to creep on," she offered.

"Wow, Mitchell," Chloe drawled with a smirk, "that would be sweet…if it wasn't freaky, like, at all."

Beca laughed, smiling wide, her eyes sparkling with happiness. "I happen to know firsthand that you like freaky. You might even be in love with freaky."

"Not just any kind of freaky," Chloe corrected. "Just your brand."

Beca's smile grew giddy as she nodded. "Yeah, I can deal with that." She dropped her gaze for a moment, a serious look overtaking her features. "So…"

Chloe cocked her head. "So?"

Beca cleared her throat. "I know we, uh, made things clear between us, but I was wondering, you know, officially, if you'd…you know…" She trailed off as Chloe's hand gently cupped her cheek.

"You've already told me you loved me," Chloe reminded her softly, and she smiled encouragingly. "Anything else can't be nearly as hard."

Beca chuckled. "That's a good point." She took Chloe's hand playing with her fingers. "I don't want anyone else," she declared softly. "Ever. Will you be my girlfriend? Like, officially?"

Chloe beamed, leaning in. Her lips caressing Beca's, she whispered her answer, "I would love to be your girlfriend" before closing the scant distance between them and sealing the promise with a kiss.

Beca grinned into the embrace, accepting Chloe's tongue as it teasingly slipped out to tangle against hers. She broke away first with a grin.

"You're my girlfriend," Beca murmured.

"You're _my_ girlfriend," Chloe countered. She grinned, snaking an arm around Beca and pulling them together. "C'mere, girlfriend. I want more sex."

Beca laughed, willingly allowing herself to be pulled the short distance until she fit against the taller redhead. Immediately, Chloe's hands started to wander, one palm curving around Beca's ass. "Wow, you're insatiable."

"Are you complaining?"

"Do I look stupid?" Beca shot back.

Chloe's eyes sparkled, and Beca rolled her own, gently placing two fingers over the lips ready to vocalize an answer. "That was rhetorical."

Chloe kissed the fingers, squeezing the globe in her hand. "Seriously though," she drawled, rolling Beca on her back. "I want sex."

Beca laughed as Chloe mounted her, the sheet falling away to bare the redhead's gorgeous body. She openly admired the curves and dips liberated to her gaze. Chloe winked as she caught the appreciative stare, straightening astride Beca's body.

"This is how our relationship is gonna be, huh?" Beca asked with a grin, her palms running up Chloe's thighs.

"Mmm," Chloe hummed in the affirmative. Her hands tangled with Beca's as she rolled forward. "But how is it different than how it was before, really?"

Beca grinned. "We can have sex?"

Chloe laughed. "We certainly can if someone would get on with it," she chastised teasingly. "Or am I gonna have to take charge?"

Beca smirked. "I'm cool with being the pillow queen." She slapped Chloe's ass cheek teasingly. "Have at it, sweetheart."

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Oh, that is so not how we're doing this," she retorted. She maneuvered down Beca's body, settling her center firmly against Beca's. Chloe bit her lip, letting her hips grind against Beca's, her clit dragging a rough path against Beca's sex. A moan tore from her throat, and she smirked down at the DJ below her, taking in Beca's fluttering eyelids as the pleasure tore through them both.

"We're both working for this one, Mitchell."

Beca grunted her acquiescence, palms framing Chloe's hips, guiding the redhead's movements as her own hips rose to meet Chloe's downward thrusts. She watched with hooded eyes as Chloe worked herself above her, following the gentle undulating of the lithe, chiseled body.

"Fuck, Chloe, you're so sexy."

Chloe whimpered her gratitude, her hands mindlessly wandering over Beca's body. Blindly, she reached for one of Beca's hands, guiding it up her torso to wrap around a breast. Beca groaned her pleasure as a particularly deep grind hit that spot for her, and her fingers clenched reflexively, unconsciously spurring the redhead on.

Chloe quickened her pace feeling herself racing to the pinnacle of her gratification. She moaned, feeling Beca's nails rake insistently against her thigh.

"Together, baby," she whimpered. "I want us to come together."

"Almost…" Beca grunted. "Almost there."

Their movements grew frantic, sloppy, forgoing finesse and grace for raw, carnal passion. Chloe tensed, rolling down as Beca canted upward, and they felt their combined pleasure spill over. Beca's hissed, throaty growl of completion juxtaposed Chloe's keening, ragged scream as the redhead threw her head back in sheer sexual bliss.

Chloe collapsed forward, unable to hold herself up. Beca accepted the weight with a chuckle as they calmed, reveling in the aftermath of their coupling.

"I think I get why the French call it 'the little death'," Beca mumbled as Chloe rolled off her, immediately shifting into their post-sex cuddle. "You're gonna kill me, woman."

"Death by orgasm," Chloe remarked, snuggling back into Beca's embrace. "I wonder if that's ever happened."

"I'll let you know tomorrow morning," Beca replied, curling into Chloe, her forehead dipping down into the crook of the redhead's neck.

"If you die, wouldn't that be a moot point?"

"It's a notification either way," Beca countered. "Don't sweat the logistics."

Chloe giggled. Despite being well on her way to unconsciousness, Beca sure was articulate, she mused. She closed her eyes, pulling Beca's arm tighter around her and let herself drift off.

Beca watched the Chloe's breaths even out in sleep. She peered suspiciously over at the redhead, trying to gauge the validity and deepness of Chloe's apparent slumber. She was beautiful, even in unconsciousness, and Beca threw caution to the wind, brushing a kiss to Chloe's neck.

"I love you," Beca whispered.

In the dark, a pair of luminous blue eyes thought to have already drifted off into the land of blissful dreams snapped wide open.

And Chloe smiled.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Aubrey Posen felt particularly pleased with herself as she sat at her kitchen table, hands curved around a light blue mug adorned with the Barden Bella 'B' filled with a rather scrumptious Tazo tea blend. A noise caught her attention, and she glanced up as Chloe's bedroom door creaked open. Beca's head poked out, followed closely by the rest of the DJ's body as she shuffled into the kitchen, blindly making her way to their coffee maker. Aubrey watched with morbid fascination as the veritable zombie that was Beca Mitchell seemed to operate with automatic movements rather than actual conscious effort.

Despite the obviously half-asleep air hovering around the DJ, she still managed to successfully deposit a cup full of coffee into a mug – Aubrey noted with humor that it was actually decorated to mimic the design of a guitar's amplifier; she had wondered who that mug belonged to. Amused eyes tracked Beca as she plunked her coffee down, felt for the chair, and slumped into the seat. The DJ hunkered over her cup, hair falling like a curtain to tickle the surface of the table, bracing her forearms for balance. Deciding that lifting her coffee cup to her lips was way too much energy for the early hour, Beca moved her face to hover over the lip, and inhaling slowly, drew the liquid past her lips and into her mouth.

It was a humorous sight, Aubrey decided. The moment the much-needed caffeine hit Beca's bloodstream, it was like someone had inflated the DJ with air. Slowly, Beca uncurled herself from her hunching slouch, her shoulders straightening, and her head lolling back up from where it was bowed to her chest. Beca blinked a couple of times before she let out a jaw-locking yawn, stretching her arms. When she settled, she looked like an actual person again…if not a little groggy.

Aubrey cocked an eyebrow. "Morning, sunshine."

Beca merely grunted, still not at full capacity. "Morning." She ran a hand over her face, the fingers of her other hand ruffling her hair, even more unkempt with sleep. She eyed Aubrey suspiciously.

"When did you get in?"

Aubrey smirked. "I had music playing," she assured her. "I didn't hear anything."

Beca flushed. "We…" she coughed sheepishly. "We went a couple of rounds."

Aubrey barked out a laugh. "I put in earplugs when I know Chloe has someone over." She wrinkled her nose. "I don't need to know what you sound like in the throes of passion."

"How did you know I even stayed?" Beca asked. "Does Chloe send out Morse code or something?"

Aubrey nodded towards Chloe's door. "No," she refuted. "The scarf."

Beca craned her neck, glancing back and noticing the yellow and blue strip of cloth encircling the doorknob. She scratched her head. "I totally don't remember her doing that."

Aubrey smirked. "That good, huh?"

Beca barked out a surprised laugh. "Wow, Aubrey. I didn't know innuendo made its way into your vocabulary."

Aubrey wrinkled her nose. "Oh, come on," she chastised. "I am admittedly rather conservative when it comes to my sexual history, but I'm not celibate."

Beca cocked an eyebrow. "It certainly explains a lot," she joked lightly.

Aubrey rolled her eyes. "You aren't the first person to tell me I need to get laid," she remarked.

Beca snorted. "I'm sure I'm not." She propped her chin on her fist. "I'm curious, though. What type of guy…" she frowned thoughtfully adding as an afterthought, "or girl…does Aubrey Posen go for?" She held up a hand. "No, wait," she entreated. "Don't tell me."

Aubrey eyed her carefully as Beca drummed her fingers on her chin.

"You need a strong kind of person," Beca began, nodding to herself. "Someone who isn't afraid to challenge your opinion."

Aubrey's eyebrows inched upward as Beca continued her analysis. An interesting inkling hit her consciousness, and her eyes strayed to the DJ as Beca spoke, unaware of the thoughts being realized.

"You don't want someone who's too much of a pushover." Beca bobbed her head from side to side. "You definitely need your significant other to butt heads with you and argue with you or you'll probably be too bored with life."

Aubrey's eyebrows drew together as Beca's description became increasingly more similar to a certain person they both knew very well. Her lips pursed, turning downward in an expression torn between amusement and consternation.

Beca cocked her head, still ignorant to her companion, lost in her triumphant analysis. "And, I wouldn't be surprised if you definitely dig the type who isn't afraid to give you a reality check…"

Aubrey rolled her eyes as Beca finally came to share in the same realization. The DJ trailed off, her eyes glazing over.

"I think I just described myself. That's disturbing." She wrinkled her nose. "You're not attracted to me, are you?"

Aubrey canted her head in exasperation. "Rein in the ego, Mitchell."

Beca smirked, waggling her eyebrows. "You wouldn't be the first predominantly straight girl I've seduced, Posen."

"Oh, geeze," Aubrey groaned. "And I thought your toner was out of control before."

"You're safe," Beca assured her with a large grin. "My 'toner' is focused on only one woman."

Aubrey smiled. "I'm glad."

Beca nodded, taking a sip of her coffee. "So what type _do_ you go for?"

Aubrey shrugged. "To be honest, I haven't dated a lot." She narrowed her eyes at the DJ. "And before you ask, I did have my moment of experimentation, but it seems I am straight…"

"Ish?" Beca offered with a teasing wink.

"Ish," Aubrey conceded with a roll of her eyes. "What is it they say? Everyone has a little gay in them?"

"You have a strict type, don't you?" Beca deduced. "I mean, you're not into bringing variety into your dating life, huh?"

Aubrey's lips pursed as she contemplated her answer. "No," she admitted. "I'm very certain what sort of guy I'm attracted to. In the past, I've dated mostly clean-cut, All-American types." Aubrey shrugged. "Dated the quarterback of the football team for a bit."

Beca frowned, cocking her head. "We have a football team?"

"We are the Barden University Battlin' Buccaneers," she affirmed. "We may be Division II, but we're still competitive."

Beca shook her head vaguely. "I…don't know what that all means…"

Aubrey's mouth twisted into a wry grin. "Does your world even extend beyond music?"

Again, Beca shrugged. "Not really."

Aubrey laughed. "So you wouldn't know who the quarterback of our football team was."

Beca shook her head. "Nope."

"Jordan Powell," Aubrey informed her. "He was a Business Administration major with a minor in Communications and a near-perfect GPA." Aubrey shrugged. "We started dating at the end of my freshman year, lasted through the summer, then broke up before Thanksgiving my sophomore year." She thought about it for a moment. "We lasted about eight months."

Beca chuckled. "That description really doesn't surprise me," she admitted. "I had a guy like that in my mind."

Aubrey shrugged. "Well, I certainly need a guy who's intelligent, someone intellectually stimulating. Someone realistic with a drive to succeed and ambitious to do well in his chosen field. Someone who is compatible. Jordan was definitely all of that."

"Kinda boring," Beca commented. "Well, if he seemed to fit everything you wanted why did you break up?"

Aubrey sighed. Her thumbs drummed against her mug, and she seemed to struggle with the words. When she glanced up, there was a shine to her green eyes. A wistful glint that teemed of a softness Beca had never seen before in Aubrey's gaze.

"It was like a fairy tale," she murmured. "He was a junior when I was a freshman. We met in Intro to Art History because I was trying to piss my father off by taking the class and he needed an easy elective to satisfy his general education requirements. He sat next to me because I was beside the only left-handed desk in the lecture hall."

Beca couldn't help but smile. She only seen this side of Aubrey a couple of times, this Aubrey caught up in the reminiscent memories. Every time, it was almost endearing to see this side of the blonde Bella captain.

"God, he was gorgeous," Aubrey recalled longingly. "He had these great blue eyes, and his hair was always messed up because he always wore this beat-up Dallas Cowboys hat."

Beca brightened as the team name resonated. "I know that team!" She practically beamed. "My stepdad loves the New York Giants, and the Cowboys are their rivals."

Aubrey only laughed and shook her head. "The first thing anyone noticed about him was how handsome he was," she remembered. "Chiseled jaw line, light eyes, dreamy smile…" Aubrey sighed, eyes sparkling. "I remember the first time he talked to me." The corners of Aubrey's mouth curled upward in fond remembrance. "He asked me if I had an extra pen." She ducked her head in embarrassment. "I handed him the one in my hand…and realized I didn't have another one."

Beca smiled as Aubrey giggled to herself. It was though the blonde had shed away everything that constantly stiffened her posture and drew her expressions to the tension that normally existed within her. She was softer, more open, and there was a sense of vulnerability that normally wasn't present in the stalwart captain.

"He just laughed, and immediately I noticed crinkles in his eyes when he smiled. He handed the pen back to me and said that I could keep it. He told me he'll just have to get the notes from me after." Aubrey shrugged. "I didn't think he was serious, but when class was over he stopped me and asked for my number." She shook her head. "When he actually called me, I almost didn't believe it was him."

"Sounds like a bad pickup move," Beca commented with a grin.

"I thought so too," Aubrey admitted. "But then he asked if we could study for the exam together."

Beca snorted. "That sounds even worse."

"And imagine my surprise when I learned he actually wasn't the meathead I thought he was." Aubrey's eyes softened. "He was so smart, so worldly that I couldn't help but be smitten. It was puppy love, and I got so swept up in it. He was everything I had ever imagined in my personal Prince Charming."

Beca cocked her head. "What happened?"

Aubrey sobered. She shrugged. "He was the star quarterback," she remarked, and Beca wasn't sure, but she knew that designation certainly meant something. "He was as close to a celebrity as Barden had…" Aubrey considered that point. "Well, before you."

Beca chuckled, letting Aubrey continue. A melancholy atmosphere suddenly permeated the air between them. Aubrey ran a hand through her hair.

"You know, there's a lot about Jordan that's attractive," she remarked. "Everything about him is just…" She gestured vaguely, unable to provide a descriptor accurate enough to truly encompass her ex-boyfriend. "He's just that kind of guy, you know? He's like everything to everyone."

Beca cocked her head, just listening.

"He's very charismatic," Aubrey commented. "He's got that way about him that just connects with people. It was easy to like him, even easier to fall in love with." She shook her head. "I was blinded by the aesthetics."

"What do you mean?" Beca asked.

"I saw the guy that I could bring home to my father and be supremely proud of the picture he represented," Aubrey explained. "Jordan was handsome, well-spoken, charming…I knew he was going to be successful, and for once I thought I had someone my father would approve of. Problem was, Jordan knew how to use all of that way too well." Aubrey scoffed to herself. "I was so hypnotized by who he was and out of all the girls on campus he had chosen me that I forgot that everyone else was seeing the same thing I was. I had Jordan, but everyone else wanted him. There was a lot of temptation, and it turns out I wasn't enough to fully hold his attention."

Beca frowned. "I'm sorry."

Again, Aubrey shrugged. "It's alright." She swallowed hard. "I learned my lesson about love the hard way. I don't need that kind of aggravation." She bit her hip, glancing away. "It hurts too much."

Beca's frown deepened. There was more to the story; she could tell in Aubrey's posture and the way the blonde was averting her eyes. "That doesn't sound satisfying," Beca mused.

"Maybe," Aubrey relented. "But I'm not a romantic, Beca. I'm pragmatic. I'm not looking for that epic, storybook love anymore. I'm just looking for companionship."

Beca tilted her head. "Weren't you the one who urged me to go after Chloe and put myself out there so I would find love?"

Aubrey laughed. "Yes, I was," she asserted. "But I also said that love is all about taking chances."

Beca nodded slowly. "And you're not one to take chances," she deduced.

"No," Aubrey affirmed. "Not anymore." Her eyes plummeted down, and her shoulders slumped. "I guess, I found out that loving someone makes you vulnerable to things that are completely outside of your control. You can choose to love that person with all of your heart, but in the same breath, they can choose to break yours." She shrugged. "I don't like dealing with the unknown." Aubrey's eyes lofted upward again, sparkling with an intent Beca had seen all too often. "I will take reliability and consistency over chance any day."

"Doesn't sound too rewarding," Beca remarked.

"Maybe not." Aubrey shrugged. "But some things I will never be comfortable gambling. Not anymore." Aubrey smiled. In Beca's eyes, the gesture seemed wooden. "To me, love is a luxury, you know? Something that's just a bonus if it happens in my life."

Beca surveyed Aubrey for a long time, brow furrowed in slight concern. "You deserve better," she said simply.

Aubrey cocked her head, returning the scrutinizing look. Beca wasn't surprised when the blonde senior changed the subject. "So, I've got a question for you."

Beca nodded, taking a sip of her coffee. "Shoot."

"I want to get Jesse something to thank him for helping me. Any ideas?"

Beca laughed. "It's Jesse," she drawled as though that said everything. "Anything movie related, you'll be a goddess to him. John Hughes is like his personal deity."

"That easy?"

Beca shrugged. "Jesse is not a complicated guy. Movies to him are what music is to me. He's the huge nerd who has like every movie in existence both good and bad. I'd concentrate on movies with really good scores. It's what he wants to do."

"That's actually not that helpful," Aubrey mused with a smirk.

Beca chuckled. 'Yeah, sorry. Jesse's notoriously hard to buy gifts for. But if you can find that one movie in his set that he's missing, you'll be like the best thing ever to him."

Aubrey shook her head. "That would be the case, wouldn't it?" she scoffed wryly.

Beca smirked. "Sorry," she apologized again. "I made the mistake of getting him a movie on his eighth birthday. Even then, he was obsessed with film. Who knew he already had the Collectors' Edition of the Star Wars trilogy? Hell, who knew he had three separate _sets_ of the Star Wars trilogy?"

Aubrey snorted, busying herself with washing her cup. "Well, I guess I have some shopping to do." She smiled, drying the mug and placing it on the rack. "Thanks, Beca."

Beca watched her for a moment before calling out. "Hey, Aubrey?"

"Yeah?"

A smile twitched the corner of her mouth. "Thanks."

That one word conveyed more than just its single syllable. Aubrey smiled, inclining her head as an answer. "You're welcome."

xxx-xxx-xxx

Later in the afternoon, Beca sprawled on the couch in Chloe's apartment, her legs stretched out in front of her. Her laptop lay propped on her thighs, and the tip of her tongue poked out from between her lips. She glanced up as Chloe returned from her last class of the day.

"Hi."

Chloe bounced over to the couch, plopping down. She leaned over, pressing a kiss to Beca's cheek. "Hiya!" She peered over at Beca's screen. "What are you working on?"

Beca grunted. "Just finishing up my Philosophy term paper."

"Modern with Graham?" Chloe asked.

Beca nodded absently. "Uh-huh."

"What's the topic this time?"

"Well, we had two options," Beca divulged. "We could either do a completely different paper or add to the one we had."

"Which option did you choose?"

Beca barked out a laugh. "Are you kidding? It was hard enough figuring out what to write about the first time around. There was no way I would have been to think of a whole new topic."

"What did you end up writing about?"

The mumble that ensued sounded suspiciously like, "You."

"You wrote about me?"

"Uh-huh," Beca mumbled, her cheeks turning pink.

Chloe cocked her head. "Why?"

"Because you were my 'Why?'" Beca gestured to her laptop. She seemed to make a decision. "You wanna read it?"

Chloe eyed her curiously. "Really?" Her head tilted to the side. "Isn't it kind of, I don't know…personal?"

Beca shrugged. "Maybe, but I kind of want you to," she admitted. "There's nothing bad."

Chloe scrutinized her for a long moment before she nodded, taking the laptop.

* * *

_"Why?"_

_It's such an innocuous question, an innocent question, asked with the purpose of soliciting more information, most often with the intent of gaining broader understanding._

_When faced with this question, m__y first initial thought towards a subject to answer it was "Why am I here?" The truth is that I don't have to be here. Here, naturally, being Barden University. I'm a Grammy award-winning, multi-platinum DJ._

_ That "Why?" would have been easier to answer. It's a multi-faceted response, and one that would surely fulfill the minimum requirement of ten pages. I could have easily filled ten pages of drivel about my college experience, how that I found myself here to fulfill a promise. Quite literally, my mother's dying wish. I could also counter with a more trite complement: how I'm also here because I have no choice. I was sent here so Dr. Warren Mitchell could keep an eye on his academically negligent daughter._

_And I could finish that paper with what I had learned from my college experience. Before my mom died, she made me promise that I wouldn't let anyone stop me from getting my dream. And I haven't. My stepdad said that my mom wouldn't have pushed so hard for me to go to college if she didn't think I couldn't learn something that I couldn't learn in the real world. I would write about how my mom was right. So was my stepdad. And, consequently my father as well._

_ But, in reality, writing about all that would be taking the easy way out. If the point of this paper is to become a philosopher and to study and explore general and fundamental problems, to be honest, I'm not brave enough to really delve into the psychology of my deep-seeded Mommy and Daddy issues and make this paper a more intellectually significant pursuit. My intention concerning academics was to fulfill the common joking adage amongst college students that "Ds get degrees"._

_ That's when I realized that my "Why?" had evolved. Because someone told me that I wasn't stupid, as hard as I tried to convey otherwise. That someone said she wasn't going to let me half-ass my way through this year because of some vendetta against my dad. She said I was worth more than that. _

_And I changed because I believed her._

_I knew my worth in the music industry. _

_In the academic world?_

_Not so much._

_That's when I also realized that my "Why?" revolved around a girl. A girl who, as she thrust a flyer in my face at the Activities Fair, described a cappella singing as "It's only with our mouths", who barged into my shower because she heard me singing and wanted me to join her group, who represented the proverbial – and perhaps literal – yin to my yang._

_ My "Why?" is named Chloe Beale._

_ And the answer to my "Why?" – God help me – is that I am in love with her._

* * *

Chloe's eyes scoured the pages of Beca's paper, absorbing all the DJ had written about her and their relationship. It was though Beca had crafted a story, inserting her introspections, laying bare her feelings in ways Chloe had only experienced through the DJs music.

She flipped to the last page as Beca wrapped up her final thoughts.

* * *

_In talking to people about this paper, the common notion is that however the author decides to answer the question is supposed to tell a lot about the person writing it._

_ There's a lot to be said about choosing to write about Chloe Beale._

_ I was interviewed recently, and the question came up where I saw myself in ten years. I answered that, among other things, I would love to be settled down with someone. The interviewer followed up that answer and asked when I pictured this vision of the future, who I saw standing with me._

_At the time, I didn't know, but when I described the person, my answer was multi-faceted:_

_She would have to love music._

_She definitely couldn't be dazzled by the celebrity._

_The most important thing was that she had to get me: DJ Lady B and Beca Mitchell. _

_The person I end up with needed to know both DJ Lady B and Beca and be able to exist in both worlds._

_Chloe is that person._

_ One of the first times we met, Chloe barged in my shower because she heard me singing "Titanium" by David Guetta featuring Sia. It was the first time we connected with music, and it certainly wouldn't be the last time. There is a line in that song that pretty much sums up our relationship:_

Stone-hard, machine gun  
Firing at the ones who run  
Stone-hard as bulletproof glass

_ People like Chloe, they have a way about them. It's something intangible that just immediately endears them to others. With Chloe, it was never anything subtle, it was a barrage of pure, unadulterated Chloe Beale. _

_ I tried running._

_ She kept after me._

_ And eventually, I caved._

_ Because everyone knows that bulletproof glass is actually a misnomer. Despite claims to the contrary, nothing is truly impenetrable. _

_ Chloe Beale is still my "Why?"_

_ My answer is still because I am in love with her._

_ Because the heart is not bulletproof._

_ And neither am I._

* * *

Chloe leaned in, pressing a kiss to the DJ's lips. "That's the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me." She clambered atop Beca's lap, cupping the DJ's face as she peppered kisses along the pale skin available to her. "It's making me hot."

Beca laughed, setting her laptop on the coffee table. "You're lucky I'm done."

"Yay, me." Chloe grinned, shoving Beca back into the couch and sliding up her body. She dipped her head, teasing Beca's searching mouth with a sly tongue flicking along the bottom lip before moving upward to the top one. Beca chuckled, fisting a hand through Chloe's hair, halting any further teasing with a deep kiss.

Chloe hummed her contentment, hands tangling in the open lapels of Beca's Henley. She leaned further into Beca, her tongue dancing with the DJ's as she lost herself in their embrace. She could feel Beca's head tilt ever so slightly, seeking out even more contact as her lips pursed and pulled, drawing as much passion as she could from the simplest display of affection.

Chloe reveled in Beca's pleasure-filled grunt as she pulled away slightly, diving in from another angle, teasing Beca's lips to part once again and accept her wandering tongue. It was no secret that Beca was particularly skilled in the art of pleasing women, but there was something to be said about how easy it was to lose herself in Beca Mitchell.

Apparently, she wasn't alone in this revelation as Beca broke their kiss, her chest heaving. "Shit, Chlo," she mumbled. "I can't get enough of you."

Chloe giggled softly, snuggling into Beca's side, her head settling in the crook of the pale, slender neck. "It's okay," Chloe assured her. "I feel the same way."

Beca's chest rumbled with her answering chuckle. "Fireworks and angel choirs?"

Chloe hummed her affirmative. "Totally clichéd, but it's true." Her eyes sought Beca's as a thought came to her mind. "Hey, if I play my cards right, will you produce a track about me? Can I have my own album?"

A corner of Beca's mouth tilted upward as she propped her head on a folded arm. "Well, I mean, I've kinda already done that."

"What do you mean?"

"You've already inspired a track," Beca edified.

"Really?"

Beca nodded. She craned her neck back, fishing for her phone that lay abandoned on the side table by the couch. Quickly flipping through her music saved in the memory, she tapped the play button, turning up the volume so Chloe could listen.

When the final notes faded, Chloe's head bobbed up, her eyes finding Beca's again. "When did you do this?"

"That day of auditions," Beca answered. She shrugged shyly. "I couldn't get you out of my head."

"Oh, wow, that seems so long ago." Chloe surveyed her for a moment. "Are you going to record it?"

Again, Beca's shoulders rose in a gesture of uncertainty. "Maybe," she hedged. "I dunno, I think it's a little too personal to put out there. I get asked all the time about what inspires my tracks. I don't know if I want our relationship to be _that_ out there, you know?" She glanced over to the redhead. "Is that okay?"

Chloe's gaze softened. "I'm blown away that I inspired you to make music," she assured her. "The fact that it's out there is more than enough." She winked. "It's kinda hot."

Beca chuckled, pressing a kiss to Chloe's forehead. "So an entire album about you, huh?" she chided, shifting the tone of their conversation to a more lighthearted air. "Isn't that overkill?"

"No way!" Chloe enthused. "All of the songs on Maroon 5's debut were about one girl."

"_Songs about Jane_?" Beca commented. "So…like, what? _Songs about Chloe_? A bit narcissistic, isn't it?" she chuckled.

"It's always been a dream of mine to have a song or album about me," Chloe remarked pensively. "Could you imagine being someone's Muse? That's kind of awesome. You know, like you've elicited such emotion that someone is compelled to write songs about your interactions?"

Beca chuckled. "Yeah, but those type of albums and songs are mostly about relationships that have _ended_."

Chloe cocked an eyebrow. "So?"

"The concept being that you dumped me, Chlo," Beca drawled. "That's a bit pre-emptive barely a day into our relationship, isn't it?"

Chloe frowned thoughtfully. "I could do that for, like, a minute," she reasoned. "Then we could get back together. It would count, wouldn't it?"

"Wow," Beca drawled perplexedly. "Really?"

"We could have make-up sex," Chloe bartered.

"Exactly what would we break up over?" Beca countered. "There is no way I've pissed you off in the twenty-four hours we've been together."

Chloe pondered that point for a moment.

"The fact that you're seriously thinking about it is ridiculously unsettling," Beca droned, wryly.

Chloe hushed her, brow furrowed in concentration. "Oh, I know!" she crowed triumphantly. "You turned down the chance to work with Christina Aguilera. She's one of my favorite artists. I'd totally break up with you for that. You're denying me the chance to meet an idol!"

"Dude, no offense, but it's no contest," she defended. "It was either Christina Aguilera or Adele." Beca weighed her options in her hands. "All due respect to Christina, but there's something…_manufactured_ about her. Don't get me wrong, Christina's got a great voice; she's an amazing talent. But there's just something raw and genuine about Adele. Something that's just so much more organic with her music." Beca smirked. "Besides, on a more materialistic note, Adele is Midas gold right now." Returning to their previous point of contention, Beca shook her head. "I feel like this conversation has completely jinxed our relationship," she remarked, a blank expression adorning her face.

"C'mon," Chloe teased. "It's not like I'm being serious. Don't tell me you're superstitious."

"If there was some wacky ritual where I had to sacrifice a goat or something to ensure that we could weather through any adversity and be together forever, I'd totally do it," Beca intoned gravely.

"That's sweet…and really disturbing." Chloe leaned in, a wide grin and her puppy-dog eyes featured predominantly in her expression.

Beca leaned back, eyes searching Chloe's face. "You just want me to write an album about you," she deadpanned.

"Duh."

xxx-xxx-xxx

Beca wove her way through campus, partially disguised with a pair of Ray Ban wayfarers, the hood of her green and gold Barden University sweatshirt pulled over her tousled hair. She was fairly unfamiliar with the Sciences block of the Barden campus. It was different from the rest of the university, the stark white buildings and large windows an interesting contrast to the dark brick that made up Barden's other structures.

Beca pulled open the doors to Kinsey Hall, one of the many Science buildings named after the famous minds of the field of study, and ascended the stairs to the second floor. Her eyes took in the crowded hallway lined with other Barden science scholars waiting for their respective lecture rooms to open up for the next block of classes. Beca joined them, leaning against the wall outside of her intended classroom. Much like the rest of her fellow students, her head was hunched over her phone – though she seriously doubted any of them were exchanging texts with the star of a network television show or answering an email from Adam Lambert, but the only real difference at the moment was Beca lacked any sort of educational accoutrement like a backpack or notebook.

She glanced up as the doors to the lecture hall flew open and students spilled out. Chloe's head of red hair stood out vividly, and her eyes quickly found Beca as the DJ lofted a hand in a casual greeting.

Beca grinned as Chloe came to a stop in front of her. "Hey."

Chloe beamed, but her expression showed curiosity at Beca's appearance. "Hey! What are you doing here?"

Beca pushed off the wall, her half-smirk adorning her features. "I was bored," she offered as an explanation. She pulled off her hood, hooking her sunglasses in the collar of the shirt peeking through the unzipped sweatshirt. Her hand came up, absently ruffling her hair. "Figured I could pick you up from class and we could grab some food?"

Chloe nodded eagerly. "Please? I'm starving."

Beca grinned. "Thought you would be."

Chloe's eyes raked up and down Beca's outfit, taking in the Barden sweatshirt. She pulled at one of the hood strings teasingly. "Look at you sporting the BU paraphernalia. You actually look like an honest-to-God college student."

Beca blushed, rubbing the back of her neck. "Uh, yeah, saw it at the Buc Shop. I thought it looked cool…so…"

"Think I'll ever get you out to a game?" Chloe asked with a grin. "Oh, you would look so cute in a pirate hat and waving a sword like a good Barden Buccaneer!"

Beca wrinkled her nose. "That sounds like something out of a bad roleplay."

"C'mon," Chloe urged, her grin widening. "It's part of the college experience to go to a Barden football game. We'll tailgate with my parents and the student body and the alumni, we'll sing silly fight songs, and we'll watch our team kick the crap out of the Lutkin State Scarlet Lancers."

"And cheer on the new Jordan Powell?"

Chloe let out a surprised laugh. "I'm surprised you know that name."

Beca grinned. "Talked with Aubrey about her dating history. That's the only reason I know who that is. And I know that Lutkin State is our rival school."

"Well, at least you've got that," Chloe deadpanned. "They're also the home school for the Footnotes. They're from Florida."

"Ah," Beca nodded her understanding. She shrugged. "I don't know if bringing me to a game would accomplish anything," she joked with a grin. "Sports are a bit beyond me. Football especially." Again, a shrug lifted her shoulders. "I went to Giants games with Art, but that was mostly just to spend time with him."

"It's not just the game," Chloe insisted. "It's the experience! It's bonding together against a common enemy."

"Ah, yes," Beca drawled. "The college experience that I'm supposed to be immersing myself in."

Chloe shook her head. "Sometimes, I think the college experience is completely wasted on you."

A noise reached Beca's ears, and she quickly became aware of the murmurs that were currently making their way through the hall as more and more students started to recognize Beca. The murmurs grew to a low buzz as they noticed exactly with whom Beca was standing. No one could ignore the lack of personal space existing between the two women.

Chloe also noticed the growing attention on them. "People are staring," she noted.

Beca shrugged. "Let 'em."

Chloe surveyed the woman before her with a small smile. She seemed to make a decision and held out a hand. "Ready to go?"

Beca looked down at the offered palm, her smirk deepening. She slid her hand in Chloe's, intertwining their fingers. "Yep."

As they made their way through the crowded hall, other Barden coeds winding around them, Chloe looked toward her companion. "So what are you figuring for lunch?"

Beca shrugged. "Didn't think that far," she admitted.

Chloe considered that with a thoughtful frown. She reached over to Beca's free hand, tugging the right wrist up to her eyesight. A watch mounted on a studded leather cuff contrasted against the sliver of Beca's pale skin peeking out from where the sleeves of her sweatshirt were pushed to her forearms, and Chloe peered down at the round-face dial, pursing her lips.

"I've got an hour and a half," she deduced. "I really want to get a short nap in or I'll never make it through my evening class."

Beca groaned. "I forgot about that class." She frowned. "Your schedule sucks."

Chloe laughed at the downtrodden expression on Beca's face. "Did you have something planned for us?"

Beca shrugged, mumbling under her breath. Chloe giggled. She knew the DJ would swear up and down towards the contrary, but Chloe was more than certain Beca answered, "I wanted to cuddle."

Chloe hid a smile. "We'll just have to learn how to make time."

"I'll always make time for you," Beca promised. She grinned, leaning up and pulling Chloe down. Their lips met in a short kiss. Beca smirked as they parted. "Can't let you make all the gestures," she quipped.

"That was good, Mitchell," Chloe complimented, bumping their hips as they continued towards the exit.

"I'm trying," Beca joked.

"We'll work on molding you into a good girlfriend," Chloe promised.

"That scares me," Beca deadpanned. "I don't like fitting molds."

Chloe merely laughed, leading them out the doors.

A little ways away, Stacie exited her class in Kinsey Hall. She caught a very familiar head of red hair bobbing beside an even more familiar head of tousled brunette hair walking her way. She grinned as she saw Beca's hand entwined with Chloe's. Her grin widened as she saw Beca pull on Chloe's hand, bringing the redhead closer and craned her neck upward.

Stacie squealed to herself. Kisses! A practiced flick of her thumb sent her phone to camera mode, and she quickly snapped the covert picture of the sweet embrace. Bringing up her messages, she sent the sniped photo and an accompanying text out to the rest of the Bellas.

_Bechloe is ON, bitches!_

Stacie bounced to her next class, patting herself on the back for a job well-done. She was sure it wouldn't be long until the rest of the girls responded. Little did Stacie know, she was certainly not the only one playing amateur paparazzo.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Later in the afternoon, Chloe woke up from her nap to a rather jarring disturbance in her bed. Her head jerked up as Aubrey bounced on the mattress, a mischievous glint in her green gaze.

"Hi," the blonde greeted with a grin.

"Bree?" she croaked, peering up to the blonde through bleary eyes. "What the hell?"

She recoiled back as the screen of Aubrey's BlackBerry was shoved into her face. "You've made national news," the blonde drawled, nudging Chloe over and sliding beneath the covers.

Chloe frowned, scrolling through the story on the gossip site.

* * *

_ It's now official. Beca Mitchell, also known as DJ Lady B is off the market. The Grammy-winning DJ and producer has been seen with a mysterious redhead since January. Much speculation has arisen concerning the identity of Lady B's new arm candy, but it seems as though this mystery is now solved. The redhead, identified as twenty-one year-old Chloe Beale, has been confirmed from various sources within the couple's campus of Barden University in Atlanta, Georgia as Beca Mitchell's new girlfriend. Beale, a senior pre-medical student at Barden reportedly met Mitchell during the beginning of the school year and has been seen in constant company with the popular DJ since. _

_According to sources, Beale referred to Mitchell as her 'girlfriend', a sentiment the notorious womanizer reciprocated and cemented with this snapshot taken by a bystander who witnessed the conversation._

* * *

"Congrats," Aubrey complimented, poking Chloe teasingly. "Victoria Teague just texted me wondering if you had representation and offered her services," she revealed, naming their mutual acquaintance who was currently majoring in communications. Aubrey cocked her head. "Something tells me she's entirely serious too."

Chloe barked out a laugh. "Victoria Teague is an opportunistic hag," she declared dryly. "She only talks to me when she wants something from _you_."

"Well, apparently she wants to talk to me for something from _you_," Aubrey stated, rolling her eyes. "And from the amount of news coverage you're getting right now, she might have a point."

"Please," Chloe snorted. "If I wanted representation, I'd talk to Beca about whom I should contact. Victoria Teague is the last person I would call."

"Still," Aubrey insisted. "You might want someone who can handle this sort of thing. Especially since the possibility of libel is out there."

"Yes, God forbid someone besmirches my good name," Chloe deadpanned. "You know, this isn't the first time I've been in the tabloids," she reminded the blonde. "This is just the first time they've actually identified me."

"Yeah, but imagine if med schools or other places look you up and this is what they see," Aubrey reasoned. "You want to have a statement out there for spin control."

Chloe thought about it. "I suppose," she conceded. She sighed. "I'll talk to Beca about the best way to go about it. She's the pro at all this anyway."

"You know, it really is amazing how easy it is to get this type of thing out there," Aubrey commented. "I mean, we're not talking paparazzi here. This is obviously an amateur with a camera phone. It could have been taken after any of your classes."

"Looks like Kinsey Hall," Chloe remarked, peering down at the image.

"Or it could be Hubble," Aubrey countered with a smirk. "All the science buildings look the same. I know you're all studying to be doctors, but do the lecture halls and labs really have to emulate a hospital?"

Chloe laughed. "It's the sterile environment thing," she joked. She returned her attention back to Aubrey's last point. "Well, I mean, it wouldn't be difficult to snap a picture with me and Beca," Chloe reasoned. "She's gotten in the habit of picking me up after my eleven-thirty class on Tuesday and Thursdays for lunch."

"Precious," Aubrey simpered with a grin.

"Shut up." Chloe shrugged. "Now that people know she's a student here, I'm sure they're always on the lookout for her."

"Makes sense," Aubrey conceded. She took back her phone, scrolling through her text messages. "Stacie sent this mass text to everyone, but it's from a different angle. I suppose that proves your theory."

Chloe smiled at the photo. "Aw, that's a cute one." She laughed when she saw the accompanying text. "'Bechloe is on, bitches'? So I guess Beca and I have a portmanteau?"

Aubrey rolled her eyes. "Stacie calls it your ship name, whatever that means. Apparently, you're her OTP."

Chloe barked out a laugh. "Stacie needs to stop trolling Tumblr."

"This is something we've never faced before," Aubrey mused. She eyed Chloe curiously. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

Chloe shook her head. "Of course not," she admitted. "I'm being followed by paparazzi, people are writing about me…" She shrugged helplessly. "But, I guess it's part of the deal when I'm dating DJ Lady B."

A thought hit Aubrey, and she inhaled sharply. "Sweet Whiffenpoof," Aubrey breathed out. "You're dating a celebrity."

Chloe sighed. "That's a scary thought, isn't it?"

Aubrey nodded. "Eyes are now on you."

Chloe exhaled, shaking her head. It really _was_ a scary thought.

xxx-xxx-xxx

The next morning, Chloe huddled in her apartment. She only had one class, the first section of the morning, and luckily, she managed to get through it with minimal attention drawn to her. Aubrey's words had proved to be correct. It seemed that the Barden masses had caught wind of who she was and – more pressing in the eyes of her peers – what she meant to the newly realized celebrity on campus. Chloe could feel the eyes on her, constantly searching for her more-famous other half. It was a bit disconcerting, and she couldn't help but mourn the loss of her anonymity.

So, rather than head to the library and be subjected to even more scrutiny, Chloe decided to escape back to her apartment for some much-needed solitude. With the rest of the day free, she used the time to put the finishing touches on her exam review. Sprawled out on the couch and idly scanning through her notes, Chloe glanced up as a knock sounded on her apartment door. She frowned, unlatching the lock and turning the knob. Her frown transitioned to a hesitant smile as she found herself face-to-face with Jules.

"Er…hi." Chloe cocked her head. "I didn't know you were still around."

Jules shrugged. "Timberlake wasn't the only artist wanting to work with me and Beca. Plus, I needed a change of scenery. LA isn't as fun without my partner-in-crime." She gestured to the inside of the apartment. "Can I come in?"

Chloe took a step back, waving her inside. "Sure." She nodded to the couch. "Have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?"

Jules shook her head. "I'm good." She eased down on the couch, taking in the mess of papers scatting along the coffee table. "You look busy."

Chloe shrugged. "Eh, not really. Just reviewing for exams." She pushed aside the textbook on the nearest couch cushion. "Barring a complete shutdown of my brain, I'm pretty set to graduate, so none of this is really necessary."

"Beca said you were going to med school," Jules remarked. "Any idea where yet?"

"I was accepted to a couple of different places," Chloe confirmed. "I chose Emory University. It's here in Atlanta."

"So you'll be sticking around?"

Chloe nodded. "It's in the top twenty rankings for med schools across the country. It's close to home and it's close to Beca. It seemed perfect."

"That's assuming Beca continues at Barden," Jules remarked. She squinted over to Chloe. "Are you trying to tell me something?"

Chloe smiled. "Would it really be that bad if Beca did stay here?"

Jules eyed Chloe closely. "No," she admitted. "But a really selfish part of me wants her back in LA full-time. I miss my bestie."

Chloe's smile turned rueful. "I can relate," she lamented. "I don't know how I'm going to survive with Aubrey at Fordham for law school."

Jules tilted her head. "Where is that?"

"New York," Chloe answered. "I mean, it's a lot closer than LA is to here, but…"

"Anything more than an hour is still too far," Jules sympathized with a nod. "I get you."

"Yeah," Chloe sighed.

Jules let that point marinate for a moment before she turned solemn eyes on Chloe, revealing her real reason for the visit. "So you and Beca are together."

Sensing the change in conversation, Chloe only nodded.

"And you've labeled it and everything," Jules persisted.

"I'd make it Facebook official if I could," Chloe intoned seriously.

Jules broke her grave demeanor for a moment and quirked a grin. "Beca doesn't have a personal Facebook page. She's deathly afraid of social media."

Chloe laughed. "I noticed that. I was actually surprised she's on Twitter and actually tweets regularly."

Jules rolled her eyes. "The only reason she has a Twitter page is that she says she's less likely to say something stupid or offensive in 140 characters." She smirked to herself. "So far, she has failed miserably."

Chloe returned the smirk. "Yes, much of what she says can be grossly misconstrued if the reader wasn't familiar with Beca's personality."

Jules nodded her agreement. She shifted back to a grim air. "Look, Chloe, I came by here for a reason." Her gray-green eyes pierced through the distance between them. Beca's co-producer seemed to grow bigger, her shoulders rounding out as her posture grew aggressive.

"Are you sure you're gonna be sticking around?" Jules's jaw tightened as her gaze narrowed. "Because if you've got designs on bolting again…"

The threat was there, but Chloe's chin tilted upward in defiance as she cut Jules off. "I am."

Jules paused, eyes still burning with intent. "And you aren't going to run? No more fucking with her heart?"

Chloe shook her head. "I'm not."

Jules's brow furrowed. "I want to believe you, Chloe. But I also have to look out for Beca."

Chloe's mouth thinned in a tight grimace, and her own blue eyes matched Jules's grim air. "Jules, I respect you and your place in Beca's life, but I'm not going to be scared away from a relationship with Beca."

"I can see that," Jules affirmed. She squared her shoulders, staring Chloe straight in the eye. "I don't have to tell you that Beca's a special person. I don't have to tell you how amazing she as at what she does."

Chloe shook her head mutely.

Jules scrutinized her for a long moment. "Are you sure you're ready to take on the reality of dating Beca Mitchell?"

"What do you mean?"

"Beca doesn't live a normal life," Jules edified. "There are times where I have to pry her away from the studio. She's liable to forget the basic functions of living if she's neck-deep in someone's album. Not only that, but her success has made her a very public figure."

"You forget, Jules," Chloe remarked, "that I've witnessed all of that. I've seen that stuff first-hand."

"Yeah, I know," Jules assured her. "But what I am asking you is if you're ready to deal with that day-in and day-out." She gestured vaguely. "You're going to have to deal with the tabloids constantly meddling in your relationship. They're going to cast doubt on the security of it all, they're going to take every little bread crumb and use it to bake a cake." Jules's eyes peered imploringly into Chloe's. "They're going to call you some unflattering things, make up ridiculous stories just because they can. Can you take that?"

Chloe nodded shortly. "Yes."

"How about when Beca hits the clubs or some event and the women are tripping over themselves to drape all over her?" Jules persisted. "You've seen how she works. You know what kind of appeal she has to other women. Are you going to be alright with that?"

Chloe laughed ruefully. "Yeah, I'm very aware of that." Her eyes rolled. "I can still remember the after-party coverage for the Grammys. Seriously," she hissed to herself. "Who knew that many women were gay?"

"And?"

"I am supremely confident in my ability to hold Beca's attention," Chloe asserted. The innuendo was clear.

Jules's nose wrinkled. "Aw, man, I so didn't need to know that."

"Jules…" Chloe's mouth opened and closed as she fought to gather her thoughts. "I get what you're trying to do, and I appreciate it, but I love Beca. I'm _in_ love with her. So to me, all of that is worth it."

"Awesome." Jules waited a beat before flashing a wide grin. "Now, I can be nice to you again!"

Chloe blinked at the abrupt transition before she laughed with delight, shaking her head. "Beca's lucky to have you, Jules."

Jules snorted. "You're damn right. You don't want to know how many times I've had to cover for Beca when some floozy overstayed her welcome..." Jules trailed off, picking up exactly how that last statement came out of her mouth and how Chloe could possibly take it. She cocked her head, frowning thoughtfully, tapping her ear. "Yeah, I just heard how that sounded out loud." She shook her head. "Yeah…you really don't want to know…"

"No." Chloe mirrored to the headshake. "I really don't."

Jules grinned sheepishly. "Sorry…my bad…"

Chloe shook her head again, this time ruefully. She took in a deep breath, eyes lofting to the woman across from her. "Jules?"

Jules met the entreating stare. "Yeah?"

"I love Beca," Chloe asserted softly. "I'm all in."

Jules didn't answer for a long moment. Finally, she nodded.

"Good," was all she said.

xxx-xxx-xxx

For the second time that semester, Aubrey found herself walking towards Barden's WBUJ station. She eclipsed the threshold, eyes peering around for her quarry.

"Hello?"

Just like before, Jesse's head poked out from the shelves at the sound of the address. "Hey!" he greeted her with a wide smile. "Just give me a second." He waved the stack of records in his hand.

Aubrey nodded, waiting as he finished his task before joining her.

"What brings you down here?"

"I wanted to talk to you about something." Aubrey tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Do you have a minute?"

Jesse thought about that for a moment, bobbing his head from side to side. "I'll do you one better."

He disappeared into one of the back rooms, reappearing again with a large blanket and a cooler. Sticking his head into the booth, he talked for a moment to Luke before heading towards the door, gesturing with a hitch of his head.

"C'mon."

She followed him back to campus and to the main courtyard by the administration building. Around them, other Barden students were also enjoying the spring sunshine. A couple of frat boys were tossing a football back and forth, still others were splayed on the grass, and in the distance, Aubrey could see the Quidditch club throwing a Quaffle around.

Jesse set his bag down, laying down the blanket.

"I hope you're hungry."

Aubrey hesitated. "Jesse, I'm already intruding on your lunchtime, you don't have to feed me."

"Nah, there's more than enough." He reached into his bag, setting out the food. Sure enough, the Tupperware containers could feed two people easily.

Aubrey descended down on the blanket beside him, carefully arranging the skirt of her dress. "This looks great."

"Beca and I do a lot of cooking together," he revealed.

"Beca cooks?"

"Well enough," Jesse affirmed. He grinned. "It's edible at least, and pretty tasty."

"Thanks for sharing," she complimented.

Jesse grinned. "Honestly, you were in the right place at the right time," he remarked. "I needed to get out of the station, plus lunch is always more fun with company."

He stretched out, gazing up at her. "So what's up?" he asked. "Why did you come by?"

"Oh!" Aubrey rotated around, rummaging through her tote. "I wanted to give you something." She blushed slightly, cradling the wrapped gift in her hands. "Kind of as a thank you."

Jesse grinned, taking the package, turning it over. "You didn't have to."

"Well, you didn't have to share your lunch," Aubrey countered. "I'd say we're even."

He inclined his head. "Beca did say you were hard to argue with."

"She would know."

Jesse nodded towards the meticulously wrapped present. "So what's the thank you for?"

"For helping me when I was trying to figure out Beca," Aubrey answered. "I needed to get my head out of my ass, and you helped. A lot of things are better now because of it."

"Aw, I didn't do anything big." Jesse shrugged, taking a swig of water. "I just guided you in the right direction."

"You could have said no," Aubrey pointed out.

"Yeah, but what purpose would that serve?" Jesse reasoned. "I mean, I'm all for the spirit of competition, but there are bigger things in this world than a cappella."

Aubrey thought about that for a moment. She remembered the humiliation she faced at ICCAs, how it felt as though her entire existence now revolved around that one moment. Their experiences with the competition were so different, so fundamentally opposite. She looked to Jesse curiously.

"Do you think when you look back at college this will be your shining moment?" she asked.

Jesse wrinkled his nose. "God, I hope not," he commented. "Otherwise I don't think I fully experienced everything I could have." He shrugged. "Winning and all that will be a highlight, but I think that my entire collegiate experience shouldn't hinge on ICCAs, no." He nodded to her. "What about you?"

"I think it's my _defining_ moment," Aubrey hedged.

"That's not a bad thing, you know," Jesse remarked. "I mean, they say the most important thing about college is kind of the life experience, you know? We can fumble through these years because we're still kind of learning how to navigate the real world." He cocked his head at Aubrey. "I'd say the ICCAs made you learn a lot about life…as excruciating as it was."

Aubrey let that sink in, her head nodding slowly. She pointed to the gift. "So, Beca said movies are your thing and that you liked ones with good scores," she remarked. "So I thought that would be my best bet."

Jesse beamed, tearing at the wrapping paper. "Aubrey, that's sweet." He schooled his features as he looked down at the title.

Unfortunately, Aubrey caught him. Her face fell. "You hate it."

Jesse shook his head furiously. "No, it's just…" He let out a helpless chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm sorry, it's not you. It's me, and really it is. To anyone else, this would be really thoughtful and amazing."

"But?"

"I'm a bit of a movie nerd," he admitted. "I have multiple copies of movies because I'm 'the guy' who buys the collectors' editions and the anniversary editions."

"Beca said that," Aubrey sighed. She gestured to the DVD cover. "How many copies do you have of this one?"

"Four," he admitted with a shrug. "But, you know, it's the thought that counts," he rushed to assure her. "And really, this was sweet of you. I'm just sorry I kind of ruined the effect."

"I can return it," Aubrey offered, holding her hand out. "Get you a gift card so you can pick out something you don't already have?"

"Nah," he remarked. "This one is a special edition. I think I'll hang onto it."

"But you already have four other ones."

"Yeah," he confirmed. His finger tapped the cover. "But _this_ one is The Aubrey Posen Gift Edition. One-of-a-kind."

Aubrey smiled. It was a sweet gesture even if it was used to placate her. She nodded to the movie. "Is that movie really that good enough to have multiple copies?"

Jesse laughed. "Yeah, but it's really the score that makes it that much more amazing. Think about it," he implored. "The music heightens the drama, softens the romance, pumps adrenaline into the action."

Aubrey cocked her head. "I never thought about it like that."

"Well, people sometimes underestimate the importance of the score," Jesse explained. "Most people can name at the drop of a hat who starred in a movie or even who directed it. Most people couldn't tell you who penned the score."

"But you could," Aubrey remarked.

"Of course I could," Jesse agreed. "Mostly because I want to score movies. If someone where to close their eyes, I want to make it so that you could follow the story without having to see it," Jesse answered. "Like you wouldn't need the images, you know? You would know just by hearing the score what was going down."

"That's deep."

Jesse nodded. "Yeah." He propped his elbows on raised knees. "You know, movies are awesome. They could be true to life and help you through the hard times or they can help you escape from reality."

Aubrey smiled. "I think you'll be successful when you get your shot," she commented. "You have to with that kind of dedication."

A corner of Jesse's mouth quirked upward. "I hope so." He ran a hand over his hair, scratching the scalp at the base of his neck. "You know, Beca never had any sort of doubt that she wouldn't make it in LA. She knew that it was gonna happen."

"Well, she knew she had the talent," Aubrey remarked.

"Yeah," Jesse hummed. "I don't have that same confidence, but I have the same desire. I want it…so bad."

"Passion shouldn't be underestimated," Aubrey noted. "Passion drives ambition. It's admirable. I'm sure the confidence will come in time."

Jesse nodded his concurrence. "I've always envied, Beca," he commented. "She's always known…" His eyes glinted with awe as his mind drifted elsewhere. "And she's never been shy about it, either."

"What do you mean?"

"She ever tell you about how she got signed to a label?"

Aubrey shook her head.

"It was about maybe six months after she moved down there. She had worked her way up the DJ scene and some…I dunno…personal assistant's cousin of her record label president saw her and forwarded her stuff. Eventually, it got to the label's president."

"Talk about a stroke of luck."

"Yeah, totally." Jesse shook his head. "Anyway, eventually, she gets in front of the president of the label. Basically, he's on his heels, not really buying into her. You know what she does?"

Again, Aubrey shook her head.

Jesse chuckled in disbelief. "Beca looks him dead in the eye, and says, 'If you don't sign me, in one year, you're gonna look back at today and call this moment the biggest mistake of your life.'" He shook his head. "Can you believe that?"

Aubrey laughed. "Actually, yes, I really can." She shared in Jesse's laugh. "I saw her call Justin Timberlake a wimp because he wasn't reaching for a high note."

Jesse bobbed his head from side to side in concession. "Yeah…I could see that too." He chuckled, head lolled back. "I want that kind of confidence," he murmured. "I want to be able to stare down that Hollywood bigwig and say with the utmost conviction that they will not be able to find anyone better than me."

"I'm sure you will."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Aubrey smiled. "Anyone with your kind of dedication won't take anything less that success."

Jesse grinned wide. "Remember that when we're kicking your ass at Nationals, huh?"

"Aca-scuse me?" Aubrey tilted her chin in a clear challenge. "You really think whatever you guys can come up with would be able to beat anything _Beca_ could come up with?"

Jesse threw his head back and laughed. "Nope," he retorted. "But I can afford a little bit of bravado. It's kind of all I've got right now. You know, because Bumper left us in the lurch…"

Aubrey watched his face. It amazed her how demonstrative he could be, how everything was so open in his features. His self-deprecation was charming, too; it was refreshing how he didn't take himself too seriously. Unconsciously, Aubrey felt her lips curve in a smile.

"You're not so bad, Evans."

Jesse cocked his head. "Yeah?"

"For a Treble," Aubrey conceded with a smirk.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Beca and Chloe were outside strolling through campus, on their way to the Philosophy building. Beca had her head bowed over her cell phone, texting someone or other for work. Chloe snuck a glance over to the screen, trying to make out the recipient.

Beca hip-checked her teasingly. "Bad, Chloe," she scolded. "Client confidentiality!"

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Mitchell. You showed me that text from Nicki Minaj."

"Because I thought it would get me laid," Beca deadpanned, slipping her phone back in the pocket of her jacket, entwining her fingers with Chloe's hand searching out her own.

Chloe giggled, leaning over to smack a loud, wet kiss to the nearest cheek. "And you accuse me of working my womanly wiles," she chided.

"Hey, quid pro quo," Beca countered. "I don't have sex appeal oozing outta my ears like you do, babe. I've gotta use what I've got."

Chloe beamed, snuggling closer as they continued through campus. "Aw, you think I'm sexy?"

Beca snorted. "C'mon, Chlo, you are well aware what you do to me."

"Yeah," Chloe admitted, "but it's still nice to know. You've had Victoria's Secret Angels hanging all over you. The fact that you prefer me is kind of mind-blowing."

Beca nodded her head in concession. "Look, no doubt that there was a very potent attraction," she acquiesced. "But that was purely physical." Beca gave Chloe's hand in hers a reassuring squeeze. "It's not just your body that's attractive to me." She drew in a deep breath, her face flushing red. "Look, you're hot; that's a no brainer. But you're also super intelligent, like intimidatingly so. You've got such an awesome personality that it's almost impossible not to fall in love with you. And, I dunno…" Beca shrugged. "You just…_get_ me. No one else does."

Chloe's face lit up, and Beca could feel herself falling all over again. Sunshine, she decided. Chloe was pure sunshine.

"I love you," Chloe declared.

Beca wrinkled her nose. "Man, please tell me we're not gonna be _that_ couple."

Chloe laughed, shaking her head. "Nothing wrong with being affectionate," she remarked, bumping Beca's shoulder with her own.

"Yeah, but we're not cutesy," Beca reasoned. "We're badass. I'm a Grammy award-winning producer, you're a hot nerd heading to medical school. That's a recipe for nothing but _badass_."

"Whatever you say, sweetie." Chloe frowned as she saw Beca wrinkling her nose. "What?"

"Ugh…_pet names_."

Chloe's brow furrowed, and she poked Beca in the stomach. "You've called me 'babe' multiple times."

"Because you _are_ a babe," Beca countered.

"Awwww…" Chloe ducked her head and leaned over, pressing a kiss to Beca's lips. "Thanks!"

Unwittingly, Beca smiled. "Can we at least negotiate on the pet names?" she implored.

Chloe seemed to take that entreaty as a challenge as she threw out a series of pet names, much to Beca's chagrin.

"Honey?"

"Sugar?"

"Love?"

"Shnookums?"

Beca gave her a deadpan look.

Chloe batted her eyelashes. "Pooooookie…?"

Beca sighed her defeat. "I can just see my reputation eroding as we speak." She halted, eyes drawn to the courtyard as they passed by the administration building.

Chloe looked curiously at Beca, following her eye line. "Oh…"

"Uh-huh."

They took in the sight of Aubrey and Jesse on a picnic blanket, sharing a laugh. One of Beca's eyebrows inched upward as Aubrey giggled, her hand flicking her hair over her shoulder.

"You know," Beca drawled. "Call me crazy, but it looks like your friend is flirting with my friend…"

"I'd call you crazy," Chloe chirped. "But then I think I'd have to call myself crazy too."

"This is weird," Beca deadpanned.

Chloe laughed. "What? That Aubrey's capable of flirting?"

"No. That she's flirting with _Jesse_."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"It's a _weird_ thing." Beca squinted over to where Jesse was throwing out his best, dimpled smile. "I don't see where that works."

"People can say the same thing about us," Chloe countered.

"Yeah, but we work." Beca turned to Chloe. "And we're awesome."

"Okay, I'm confused where you're going with this," Chloe remarked with a smile. "You like Jesse. He's like your best friend. And you and Aubrey finally understand each other, so what's the big deal?"

"Look, it's nothing against Aubrey," Beca insisted as they continued on. "I just…I had a conversation with her about her romantic life," she explained. "She laid out her 'perfect man' pretty definitively. Jesse does not fit that in any way, shape, or form." Beca gestured back where Aubrey and Jesse were still in the courtyard. "I don't see Jordan Powell in Jesse Evans."

Chloe frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

"Look, I just don't want Jesse to get in too deep just to realize that he's got no chance because he doesn't match what Aubrey wants in a guy," Beca reasoned. "Aubrey gave me a pretty good picture of Jordan Powell. Jesse certainly doesn't fit that mold."

"I still think it's hilarious that the only reason you know that name is because you talked about Aubrey's dating history," Chloe mused with a teasing grin. She laughed to herself, shrugging. "Maybe that's what Aubrey needs," Chloe reasoned. "Someone who isn't her type."

"Maybe," Beca conceded. She cast a glance towards their two friends. "It's still weird though."

"Weirder things have happened."

"Isn't that the truth?"

They stopped outside of the Philosophy building. Beca frowned, shifting her backpack to her front, rooting through the depths and mumbling to herself.

Chloe smirked, an eyebrow arched in light chastisement. "Shouldn't you have checked _before_ we left?"

Beca shot her a look, sliding the paper triumphantly from the big pocket of her backpack. She hitched her thumb towards the building. "I'll be right back."

Chloe smiled. "Take your time." She pointed over to the benches to the side of the steps leading up to the building. "I'll be hanging out over there."

Beca nodded absently, flicking through the pages. "I'll come find you when I'm done."

Chloe eased down on the bench, running through her messages – making sure to send a lightly needling text to Aubrey. A shadow fell over her, and she glanced up to find the one person she would have been content to never encounter again.

"Paige."

A smirk tilted cherry red lips, and her name was expelled with a mocking, derisive lilt behind it. "Chloe." Green eyes raked derisively up and down her body. "Still here at Barden, I see."

It was a rather obtuse assertion, and Chloe cocked her head. "I would think so," she drawled. "Last week of finals is the first week of June. I can't imagine the possibility of graduating if I miss almost two months of classes. They don't give you the diploma just for showing up."

Chloe had a feeling the sarcastic comeback was over Paige's head as the actress continued their conversation on a different vein. "So, I hear you and Beca are officially an item." Paige mock-sighed. "I'm jealous."

"Really?" Chloe deadpanned. "I couldn't tell."

"I don't understand it, you know," Paige began, feigning nonchalance as she looked down at her manicure. "What Beca sees in you," she clarified.

"Well, I guess you don't know Beca very well."

"I think the biblical sense is well enough," Paige hinted.

"Just once?" Chloe's eyes narrowed in a clear challenge as one eyebrow arched upward. She stood, keeping her features schooled, wary of prying ears and eyes that always seemed to be around these days. "Can't say that only once with me was enough to satisfy her."

"Why do you think I've been working so hard to seduce her," Paige posed with a smirk. "I'm sure one more time with me will convince her to see things my way."

Chloe clucked her tongue. She could play the bitch card if that was how Paige wanted to do it. "Must not have been all the great the first time if you're trying as hard as you have been." She let that dig sink in as she canted her head. "Beca and I are dating, Paige," Chloe edified for the actress. "She and I are exclusive, so whatever delusion you've convinced yourself will happen is just a pipe dream, I promise."

They stayed locked in their standoff. Two sets of eyes burned through the distance between their respective owners. So engrossed in their heated battle, neither woman noticed when Beca jogged down the steps to the Philosophy building, a triumphant air about her.

"Hey, sorry…conversations with Dr. Graham tend to get pretty…" Beca trailed off as she took in the scene before her with trepidation as she looked from Chloe to Paige. "Uh…whoa…Major déjà vu," she mused, gesturing between the two in their standoff. "You know, it's been awhile since I've seen this. I'd say I missed it, but I'm always afraid someone is gonna draw blood or something drastic."

Chloe kept her eyes on Paige as she addressed Beca. "Hey, _honey_," she placed an emphasis on the pet name, "Paige and I were just discussing our relationship."

"As in yours and mine?" Beca asked.

Chloe rolled her eyes, turning to her girlfriend. "No, dork, mine and Jules's."

Beca wrinkled her nose. "Yikes, c'mon now!" She shook her head. "I don't want that visual."

Chloe recoiled, eyes whipping to Beca's. "What do you mean? We'd be hot!"

Beca pouted slightly. "Yeah, you would be…but where would that leave me?"

"Aw," Chloe cooed mischievously, poking Beca's cheek. "Poor Beca…all left out of the lady lovin'."

Beca batted her hand away with a lighthearted frown. "I'm starting to rethink this whole dating you thing, Beale."

Chloe smirked, flipping her hair. "Whatever, Mitchell. I've got you whipped. No sense in denying it."

Beca looked scandalized. "Dude, no! It's bad enough you've got me bowing to pet names. I draw the line at admitting I'm whipped."

"In public?" Chloe teased.

Beca frowned, head bobbing from side to side in consideration. "In public," she conceded with a sigh. Chloe laughed, catching the teasing glint in Beca's expression. She leaned down, pressing a kiss to Beca's cheek.

"You'll never have to worry about me running away with Jules," she promised. "We wouldn't make a good-looking couple."

"Plus, that would be way too much red hair," Beca agreed.

"Hel-lo!" A shout caught their attention. "Still here!"

Both girls turned slowly back to their intrusive third party. Beca forced a smile on her face as she obliged the actress. "Hi, Paige."

A simpering smile was her answer. "Beca." Paige ran a hand down Beca's arm. "Just congratulating you and Chloe on your relationship."

Beca subtly moved away and closer to Chloe. "Well, it's nice to know you changed your tune considering how you tried to sabotage it."

Paige canted her head. "I would never do that."

"So you didn't insinuate that we slept together over Spring Break?"

Paige's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and her lips pursed. She waved away Beca's assertion. "I didn't explicitly say those words," she defended blithely. "Not my fault she took them the way she did."

Beca rolled her eyes. "Do you even care that we're in a relationship or is it just a minor roadblock in whatever twisted little plan you have in your head?"

Paige crossed her arms, popping a hip out in defiance. "Beca, I'm helping you realize the inevitable. You have the opportunity to recreate our night of steamy sex for as long as your hot little body desires."

Beca's shoulders slumped in exasperation, and she lofted a gaze skyward. "Look, Paige, we had a night, but I made it very clear it was a one-time thing. I have absolutely no desire to extend that one night.

"But you will with her?" Paige challenged.

"Yes," Beca insisted. "I'm in love with her!"

"Beca, please. See reason." Paige propped a hand on her popped hip. "You're a high-profile celebrity. You want someone on your arm who will enhance your public persona." She gestured derisively at Chloe. "Some small-town college nobody is not going to do that."

"You know, in my head, I'm slapping her across the face right now," Chloe remarked, eyeing the distance between her and Paige. She turned to Beca. "That wouldn't be a good move though, would it?"

Beca shrugged. "It definitely wouldn't help me 'enhance my public persona'," she commented thoughtfully. "But then again, apparently your mere presence sends it plummeting…so what really would you have to lose?"

Chloe crossed her arms, shooting Beca a pout. "You're not supposed to encourage me," she chastised lightly. "You're supposed to be the voice of reason and dissuade me."

Again, Beca shrugged. "You're the sensible one in this relationship, babe," she reminded Chloe. "I'm the wild, reckless one, remember?" She poked Chloe's arm in her version of a feeble, lazy rebuke. "Remember what we were taught when we were little. Use your words…"

Chloe huffed. "Fine." She rounded on Paige. "Look, you talentless, silicone-stuffed, Barbie doll-wannabe, just because America sees your face on TV every week does not make you better than me. Beca chose me. Beca wants me. Beca is in love with me. Get it through your thick skull that she will chose me over you." Chloe gestured between them. "There is no contest. You will lose…every…single…time."

Paige's mouth dropped open in dramatic consternation.

"She," Chloe pointed to Beca, "is mine."

Both ladies whipped towards Beca for her opinion, each entreating for her support, one expression deceptively pleading, the other fierce and determined. For her part, the DJ had an open-mouthed, dumbstruck look of awe and arousal on her face.

"Sweet Jesus, that was hot…" She caught Chloe's stare and expectant look. "Oh, yeah." Beca hitched her thumb to Chloe. "What she said."

Chloe nodded triumphantly and held out a hand. "Are you ready to go?"

A corner of Beca's mouth quirked upward. "Are we gonna have aggressive, possessive sex?"

Chloe returned the smirk, eyes twinkling as she coyly ran her fingertip along the skin exposed from the deep V of her blouse. "Play your cards right, I could be persuaded."

Beca's eyes widened, following the wandering finger. She was practically salivating. "Then yes, please." Willingly slipping her hand into Chloe's, she allowed herself to be tugged along.

Paige thrust her hands on her hips, practically stomping her foot as she screeched her displeasure. "Beca!"

Beca whirled around, arms spread in concession. "Look, Paige. If I wasn't drunk that night, I never would have made a pass at you." She forced a contrite expression on her face. "And honestly? You kinda suck in bed…" With that, she turned tail and scampered off, fighting the urge to laugh out loud.

Chloe smirked as Beca returned to her side. "Think she got the message?"

Beca sighed. "I hope so."

Both girls jumped as a veritable shriek sounded, floating across the courtyard in their direction. "That's it, Beca! We are so done! YOU'RE NOT EVEN WORTH IT!"

Beca winced. She could see the fallout potentially on the horizon, but she honestly couldn't bring herself to care.

"Yikes…"

xxx-xxx-xxx

As the days went by and the shock of Chloe's face splashed over the tabloids as a confirmation of Beca's new relationship status waned down, the girls fell into an easy routine. The paparazzi found other targets to focus their lenses on (someone had gotten arrested over the last couple of days, and a sex scandal rocked Hollywood the day after – go figure), and they settled into their relationship comfortably. With the declaration that they were together, the weight, expectations, and uncertainty that lingered were lifted. Still, Chloe felt uneasy. There was something…missing; something holding her back.

When she mentioned it to Beca, the DJ fought to keep the panic from her features. "You're not second-guessing this, are you?"

"No," Chloe assured her. "It's something else."

"What do you mean?"

Chloe tried to find an appropriate analogy to help Beca understand. "It's like…" she fumbled for the correct verbiage. "I don't know, I just feel…_off_." She cupped Beca's face, pressing a reassuring kiss to her lips. "But, it's nothing, I promise. I'm not going to run."

Beca bit her lip, eyes lofting to Chloe's. The redhead hated that she put that doubt in Beca's mind, but she dropped her gaze down, meeting Beca's solidly.

"Beca, I promise."

Beca surveyed her for a long moment before she nodded slowly. "Okay. Let me know if there's anything I can do to help." She hitched a thumb towards the door. "I've got to meet an artist downtown, but I'll see you tonight?"

Chloe nodded with a smile. "Definitely." Her eyes twinkled mischievously, and she reached out, slapping Beca on the ass as the DJ turned to leave. "Go make that money, baby!"

Beca shook her head, opening the door. "Seriously, woman, I don't know what to do with you sometimes…"

As Beca departed, Chloe sighed, and she moved over to the couch, slumping down onto the cushion, her legs stretched out in front of her. She fiddled with her phone, scrolling through her text messages, deep in thought. She threw her head back in frustration, letting it plop down on the cushion behind her.

Chloe jumped as her phone vibrated, and she smiled as her brother's name showed up on the screen. Accepting the call, she raised her phone to her ear.

"Hey, loser."

"Okay, so I've got two job prospects for the summer, but neither seems to be any fun. What are the chances that your girlfriend could give me a job that puts me in front of as many cute, Hollywood girls as possible?"

Chloe laughed. "I don't know, Carson. You might be too distracted with the girls to actually get work done."

"C'mon, Chlo! Help your big brother out. I would gladly shed all semblance of dignity and be her designated coffee go-fer if that's what will get me paid."

"I'll ask Beca," Chloe promised with a grin.

"Awesome. That might not help my resume, but it'll definitely be a cool talking point." Carson paused. "How have you been?"

"Good," Chloe hedged, twirling a strand of hair through her fingers. "Everything's winding down, and I'm kind of just ready for graduation." She shrugged to herself. "It's actually weird."

Carson laughed. "How so?"

"Well, I'm so used to drowning in research papers and lab projects and tests," Chloe explained. "But in lieu of finals, a lot of my classes assigned either big projects or big papers that were due these last few weeks."

"So instead of a final, it's like a term paper?" Carson deduced.

"Yeah, exactly." Chloe frowned. "And now that all of those are off my plate, my schedule is so empty. I'm not sure what to do with all this time." She sighed. "Maybe that's why I've been feeling so off."

Carson chuckled. "Yeah, my experience was a little different. I remember being so caught up in finals that graduation seemed to get on me really fast."

"Tell me about it," Chloe remarked. "I don't remember my high school graduation being anything like this."

"Well…yeah." Carson hesitated. "I mean, with Jack…"

Chloe hefted a sigh, the memory insinuating itself in her brain. Carson was right. She really didn't have a chance to enjoy the waning moments of her senior year of high school. Jack's death happened so close to her graduation that things like prom and commencement seemed so trivial and irreverent when compared to the grief. She paused for a moment, thinking about that time. It had been a whirlwind of vague events and happenings that only seemed to solidify Jack was gone, but even as the casket closed, and he was lowered to the ground, Chloe still felt as though this was all some ill-advised prank; that Jack really wasn't dead. And even now, with the guilt that had influenced her for so long, Chloe could still feel his presence linger.

A thought struck her, and she sat up slightly. "Carson?"

He seemed thrown slightly with the new change in her tone. It was urgent, pressing, far from the easy conversational timbre she had taken in the beginning. It gave him pause before he responded. "Yeah?"

"How did you move on from Jack?"

Her brother paused, and he seemed to ponder that notion. "I guess I said goodbye," Carson answered thoughtfully. "I mean, when he died, everything happened so suddenly, you know? Like I'm sure with some terminally ill cancer patient or something, family members kind of get a chance to sort of get used to the idea of life without that person. I never really accepted the fact Jack was gone."

That resonated strongly with Chloe, and she pursued the subject. "So what did you do?"

"Went back to our high school," Carson replied. "Camped out under the bleachers for a bit. You know, that place we used to sneak cigarettes and cheap beer?"

Chloe laughed. "Yeah. Dad was so pissed when he found out what you were doing."

Carson grinned. "I don't think I've ever seen Jack so scared in my life." He chuckled. "Anyway, it was like that 'Five Stages of Grief' thing people talk about condensed into about two hours. You know, denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance?"

"Yeah." Chloe sighed.

Carson paused, searching for words. "It was exhausting…but cathartic too. It was like an explosion of emotion, but after, I felt…better."

"Like how?"

"Not like a weight was lifted or any of that shit." Carson snorted. "It was like I _got it_, you know? Like when you're done with a really good corn dog and all you're left with is the stick? It's like you know you've eaten it, you can feel it in your belly, and the only thing left is throwing away the stick and continuing with your day."

Chloe hummed. "So this was you proverbially throwing away the stick?"

"I mean, yeah." Carson tried to explain his reasoning. "You could hang onto the stick, but there's no point. It's just a stick, and it's kind of useless."

Chloe chuckled, thoroughly amused by Carson's logic. "So you trash the stick and move on."

"Yup." Carson could feel that there was something eating at his sister, and he called her attention back to him. "So why are you really asking, Chloe?"

"I don't think I've ever found that closure," Chloe admitted. "I don't think I've thrown away my stick. And I think that it's holding me back."

"From what?"

"From fully being in a relationship with Beca," Chloe admitted.

"This again?" Carson joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah…"

Carson paused for a long moment. "Well, look, Chlo. It's one thing to know Jack's dead and not coming back, and it's something else to let him go. You gotta find a way to let him go."

xxx-xxx-xxx

Chloe thought about Carson's words for a long while, preoccupying her throughout the evening until the next morning. The early sunlight woke Chloe, and she blinked to clear the sleep from her eyes. She glanced down, finding Beca's arm fitted snugly around her waist, and she rolled her eyes fondly as she noticed the DJ's forearm disappearing up her shirt, Beca's palm groping her breast. Gently, Chloe removed the invasive extremity, kissing the hand before slipping out of the bed. She left a note on her pillow, weighing it down with Beca's cell phone to make sure that the DJ would be able to see it.

It had been a while since she had visited Jack's grave. The last time was at the burial, and since then, Chloe could never bring herself to visit the cemetery. It was only a tangible reminder of her failures as a loved one, and it hurt to see the lasting evidence of a life lost too soon.

Chloe eased down onto the soft grass in front of Jack's grave. She reached out and plucked the tattered flag bearing the fire department's logo by the tombstone, putting a fresh one in its allotted place.

**Jack Spencer  
**_Beloved son and brother  
Family is not just blood_

Chloe smiled, stroking the tombstone lovingly. Unwillingly, the tears welled up in her eyes, and she felt them spill over to stain her cheeks.

"Hi, sweetie," she greeted, sniffing back her tears. "I know it's been awhile, but a lot of things have happened."

She recounted the last couple of years of her life, sitting there on the grass of the cemetery. Her first days of Barden, performances and competitions with the Bellas, her recent scare with her nodes, all of that flowed from her mouth to the manifestation of Jack in front of her. She could imagine his reactions as though he was sitting across from her.

"And I met someone," she murmured, playing with the old flag in her hands. "She's a famous DJ and music producer. I fell in love with her, but I messed it up because I was scared and I felt guilty. I didn't think I deserved her love. Not after I threw away yours."

The tears flowed steadily now, pouring out the emotions Chloe had stifled for so long. She took a deep breath, composing herself, her eyes gazing over Jack's tombstone.

"You know, Jack, for awhile I thought I wouldn't ever be able to move on from you," Chloe admitted. She shrugged helplessly. "I never imagined finding that lasting sort of relationship again. I don't think I let myself even consider the possibility."

She reached out, tracing the dates of his birth and death. He really wasn't that old, she mourned. Such a young life taken way too soon.

"You'd like her," Chloe asserted. "Beca's a lot like you…but she's also very, very different." Chloe looked down at the ground. "I'm not trying to replace you with a newer model or anything, and I promise I'm never gonna forget you, but I have to move on, Jack."

She could see his face in her mind's eye, the twinkling eyes, the tousled hair, that rakish grin. It didn't hurt so much anymore, she realized. Where there had always been a dull ache every time she thought about Jack's memory, there was now a rueful warmth, a fond remembrance. She didn't feel guilty anymore, and she knew that Jack would want the same.

"I have to be happy again, sweetie. I want to be happy. And Beca really, really makes me happy." She kissed her hand, laying it on the cool stone. "I know you understand."

Chloe gazed down fondly at the tombstone. It was a bittersweet sort of melancholy, but there was something else licking at the edges. Something optimistic; something exciting.

"You were amazing, Jack, and I'll always love you, but this is goodbye."

Chloe stood, brushing the dirt from her jeans. She wasn't one to take too much stock in the supernatural or omens or anything like that, but she had a feeling that wherever he was, Jack approved and he was happy. Carson was right. It wasn't the weight lifting from her chest. It was a sense of completion, a feeling that she had said her piece, that everything that had lingered since Jack's death was now laid bare and out in the open.

Chloe took a deep breath, steadying herself.

With one final glance, she walked away.

xxx-xxx-xxx

Chloe opened the door to her apartment. Her eyes scanned the room to find Beca stretched out on the couch, her laptop balanced on her thighs. She could feel the flutters in her belly just by looking at the petite brunette, and a little thrill shot through her. Chloe could tell the DJ was working on a track, evidenced by the headphones clamped firmly over her ears, and Beca's lips moved as she coached herself through the creative process. As Chloe entered, her movement alerting Beca to her presence, the DJ's eyes flicked upward to meet hers.

Beca grinned in greeting, slipping the headphones down around her neck. "Hey."

Chloe beamed. "Hi."

Beca lofted the note. "Thanks for this," she commented humorously. "I feel less dirty."

Chloe giggled, throwing her coat on the armchair beside the couch. "I learned my lesson the first time around."

Beca shrugged her shoulders. "Kinda cryptic though," she remarked, eyes scanning over the scrawled letters. "'Had to go somewhere. Be back in a bit. I love you.'" Beca tilted her head. "Is everything okay?"

Slowly, Chloe's head inclined in the affirmative. "It is now."

Beca grinned teasingly. "This isn't where you simper and say it's because you're with me, right?"

Chloe laughed. "Nope. Promise." She eased down onto the couch, sliding the headphones from Beca's neck, moving the laptop to the coffee table, and snuggling into the DJ's side.

Beca grinned, obligingly moving her arm to fit around Chloe's shoulders. "You wanna talk about it?"

Chloe smiled, nodding without hesitation. "Well, you know how I said I was feeling off? Like something was holding me back?"

"Yeah."

"I didn't know what it was," Chloe admitted. "But Carson called, and our conversation kinda clued me in that it had to do with Jack, so I asked Carson to get his take."

"And?"

"Through a puzzling analogy featuring a corn dog, I figured out I had to say goodbye."

"A corn dog?" That analogy _was_ truly puzzling, and Beca thought about that for a moment before dismissing it. She fell silent, scrutinizing Chloe for a long moment, her head cocked in curiosity. "So…a beef product dipped in batter and deep fried prompted you to an epiphany?"

"Yeah…essentially," Chloe affirmed with a grin. "Basically, I had to move on and let go. So I went to his grave."

Beca absorbed that, the question bursting forth before she could stop it. "What did you do?"

Chloe's smile softened to a melancholy air. "I talked to him. Like we used to at my parents' home on the couch in the living room. I told him about the things that had happened since he had been gone." She nudged Beca. "I told him about you." Chloe bit her lip, absently playing with the necklace laying against Beca's collarbone. "Then I said it was time for me to move on. And I said goodbye."

Beca sat up straight. Chloe lifted her head from the DJ's shoulders. She frowned as she saw Beca's stricken look. Beca shifted to face her girlfriend, teeth worrying her bottom lip. "But, should you really forget about Jack?" Beca asked, her brow furrowing in concern. "I mean, I don't want to be the reason you have to forget about him. I know he's important to you."

"It's not a matter of me forgetting him," Chloe assured her. "I'll always remember Jack, and I'll always love him. It's a matter of closure. I needed closure."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, like your mom," Chloe remarked. "You kind of had to resign yourself to the fact that she was going to die, right?"

Beca nodded. "Yeah. It was tough, but it was kind of inevitable."

"We never got the chance to do that," Chloe explained. "Jack's death happened so suddenly, we didn't have the chance for those last goodbyes, and I spent so much time feeling guilty that I couldn't find that closure for myself."

The realization hit Beca, and she nodded slowly. "Ah. I get it now."

"And now…" Chloe smiled and shrugged. "It feels like I've finally found balance."

Beca nodded, turning that idea over in her mind. "Like…" She fumbled to find an appropriate phrase to convey the notion. Finding nothing adequate, she settled with, "Middle ground?"

"Kind of." Chloe's smile softened. "Jack's memory will always stay with me, but I think I've accepted the fact that I don't have to hold onto him. I can love you and not feel like I'm betraying him."

Beca nodded slowly. "That sounds nice." She glanced hesitantly up at the redhead. "I'm glad you found what you were looking for."

Chloe beamed. "I'm all in," she assured Beca. "You're stuck with me now, Mitchell."

As Chloe's lips descended down to hers, Beca couldn't find any fault in that notion. Not one little bit.

_Yaaaaagh! That was massive. I honestly did not anticipate this chapter would be so long. Anyway, the songs used in this installment are "I Will Remember You" by Sarah McLachlan and "Mirrors" by Justin Timberlake. I hope you guys enjoyed this one! Next chapter, we see the Bellas head off to New York, and we wrap up all the loose ends. As usual, please feel free to let us know what you think, we always love hearing from you guys. I should also mention, if I haven't before, CJ and I are also on Twitter, our Twitter handles are the same as our Tumblr ones. Check us out on there if not to revel in our irreverence, lol. Thanks so much for going on this journey with me and CJ! I hope you guys had fun._

_Until next time,_

_*ISP_


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